Lost in Time: Yesterday's Child
by thelonemongrel
Summary: Sequel to LiT: Origins. When the herd is summoned to a land beyond their own, they find the cost of being heroes threatens to tear them apart, even as they fight to save their future. T for language and violence. AU as of IA4's release
1. Past Tense

**Hello everyone!**

**Before beginning, a helpful word; if you have chanced upon this story and have read nothing by me before, then my suggestion would be to acquaint yourself with this series before reading on! This is a sequel to Lost in Time: Origins, and follows on from it in a lot of respects. I am writing it in a way that you don't necessarily need to know the other story first, but it would greatly help!**

**To those of you who have just finished Origins and are ploughing into this story, welcome back! I have been really excited about writing this story for over a year now, so hopefully you will enjoy it too! This story is set a decade after the events of Origins, as i felt that an all grown up Peaches (well, 12ish...close enough :P), Mark and Ben would be interesting to explore!**

**As always, please read and review etc etc etc**

**Without further ado...**

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

"WATCH OUT!"

The rocket seemingly appeared rather than fired. The mass of explosive metal roared towards them, belching out an angry plume of smoke and fire in its wake. He saw it, knowing full well he had only seconds to react. He turned to the soldiers around him, all hunkered down behind rubble.

"TAKE COVER!" He screamed.

Barely had they moved when the missile flew past them, skirting over their heads so closely they could almost have reached out and touched it. It slammed into a building a hundred yards behind them, shattering the structure into a plethora of flying concrete, steel, glass and fire. In the distance, he could hear screaming. His heart sank as two medics ran past him, sprinting hard for the burning building. His dismay turned to horror as he saw the reason for their running; several men now flailed on the ground, their bodies covered in flames.

But not covered enough to hide the uniforms that they wore, burning off even as he looked on.

He let out a cry of rage; they were _his _men, and he was their captain. He raised his hand, pointed squarely at the building from whence the rocket came, and screamed,

"OPEN FIRE!"

The small arms fire that emanated from within was no match for them as RPG's, tank shells, grenades and rifle fire slammed into the building.

Within a minute, he called for his troops to cease fire. Nothing within the devastated building moved. Only the screams of the badly burnt men behind him filled the air.

"Fan out!" He yelled. "Ensure all hostiles have been neutralised!"

"Yessir!" The men chorused. Promptly, they broke their cover, snaking their way towards the structure.

He waited impatiently on the perimeter, keeping an eye for any further rebels, desirous to hear the report.

Finally, his radio crackled,

_"Sir?"_

He snatched up his radio, pressing it tightly to his mouth,

"Are they neutralised?"

_"They are sir, but..." _The voice replied hesitantly. The guarded tone worried him deeply,

_Oh God no,_ he thought.

"What is it, corporal?" He asked, unsure if he wanted to know.

_"...five rebels have been accounted for...but there are others in this building..."_

His blood went cold.

"Tell me." He said flatly.

_"Seven civilians are also here; tied and bound...the bastards must have taken them hostage...but..."_

_Oh no..._

His heart stopped at the full, horrific realisation of what was implied.

"Can we save them?" He asked in desperation.

_"Sir...they're dead. Judging by their wounds, it weren't us, sir. Close range, and fresh. Bastards must've shot 'em when they saw us approach."_

He tottered on his feet, all strength leaving him as his mind swiftly accused him;

_You didn't even know they were there...you didn't save them...you __failed__ them._

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"You ok, Frank?"

Frank barely heard Mark's voice above the din of his thoughts. Voices of hundreds of people he had failed to keep alive - civilian and military, real and imagined - welled within him. He glanced up into the mirror he stood in front of, seeing the tears now streaking his face, his dress-uniform jacket only partly donned. He let out a bitter sigh as he slid his right arm into the jacket sleeve.

"I'm all right," He murmured, wiping away the tears brusquely. "It's just...this jacket, this whole uniform...reminds me of a past I tried to leave behind."

The presence of Mark's paw on his arm forced his attention away from the mirror, his gaze meeting with the sabre's. The sight of Mark in full dress-uniform still surprised him - more for the fact that it suited him than anything else. The sheer power of his eyes peering out from under his peaked cap caught him slightly off guard.

"The Troubles never happened," Mark said softly. "That entire _timeline_ never happened," He smirked slightly. "Technically, _none_ of our timelines happened."

Frank smiled ruefully,

"Maybe not," He admitted. "But I lived through it all the same..."

"But that man you remember isn't you," Mark countered forcefully. "The man who wore this uniform didn't stand up to Soto, didn't help us save history...that man isn't a part of our herd...but _you_ are."

Frank fought back the tears as he donned his dress-uniform jacket, feigning a smile for Mark. He knew, logically, that he was right; his self-recrimination was paradoxical, guilt for actions that never technically happened. A failed expedition through time, and all the adventures therein, had resulted in a new timeline, one where the Troubles - and his actions whilst fighting in it - had never come to pass.

But the voices were there, taunting him, reminding him of his failures. Of the blood on his hands. He donned his peaked cap, turned, and stared at his own reflection in the mirror. The three diamond emblems signifying his rank as captain gleamed in the light, his buttons and shoes highly polished, his peaked cap giving a sense of grandeur and theatricality to it all. Even his sword hilt gleamed in the light. He brushed himself down, turning to Mark,

"How do I look?" He asked.

Mark nodded, giving him a smirk,

"Good," He replied. "It makes you look impressive, authoritative, even _dignified_...to put it plainly, all the things you seem to lack usually."

He laughed, giving the sabre a playful punch on the shoulder. His smile quickly faded as his eyes met themselves once more in his reflection.

"I was a fool back then," He murmured to himself, looking squarely at the reflection of his eyes. "Once upon a time, I would have been thrilled to wear...this..."

"And you don't now?" Mark quizzed.

"No," He replied. "Because now I know just how much blood that I had to spill to wear...this..."

Mark cleared his throat, grabbing his attention.

"I've been meaning to ask; _why_ do _we_ have to wear this?" The sabre gestured to both himself and Frank's uniforms. "I mean, sure, I can understand you wearing this stuff, in a way...but why me? Why do all of the herd have to wear this stuff for this thing?"

Frank smiled slightly,

"Sam seems keen to make it look like a _military _tribunal," He stated. "Although I am reliably informed that no one's entirely sure what it is, or what it will become. I guess I can understand why they don't want us to stand out since, officially, we don't exist. The Guardians are a _myth_, after all."

A gentle knocking on his door snapped them out of their conversation. He turned to find chauffeur idling in the doorway, smiling nervously beneath his cap.

"Captain Howard?" He asked. "Lieutenant Ericsson?"

He turned back to Mark, both of them sharing a bemused glance, knowing full well what the other was thinking;

_Ericsson? _

"Yes?" Frank said aloud.

"I have been sent on the behest of the United Nations Temporal Commission. They require your presence."

Frank looked down at his watch, smiling slightly.

"I take it the tribunal is starting earlier?" He said, knowing full well the chauffeur wouldn't have any clue what he was talking about.

Sure enough, he shrugged,

"I apologise, captain, but I do not know," He replied courteously. "But I do know that they want both of you there immediately."

Frank sighed,

_Of course they do._

He placed his left hand on the hilt of his sword, reassured by its presence. He shot Mark a wearied smile as he stretched out his other hand, giving the man a deferential nod,

"Then please, lead the way."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The rain pelted the roof of the car, drowning out any other sound. Frank shifted back in his seat, gazing absently through the rain mottled window at the soaring modern towers and arcane buildings that made up London. In the distance, its peak occluded by clouds, stood the great glass structure that housed the UNTC. Whilst Sam had told him it's 'real' name, he knew he would never consider it to be anything else but the Shard.

The car jerked slightly, snapping his attention to his immediate surroundings.

He sat bolt upright, staring wide-eyed at the bridge they passed over.

"Waterloo Bridge," He murmured. He remembered the bridge, as if from some half-forgotten dream; of Hudson-that-wasn't-Hudson, and of destruction that never happened.

"What?"

He smirked, suddenly reminded of Mark's presence. He slumped back into his seat, casting a sideways glance at the sabre,

"This is Waterloo Bridge," He repeated.

Mark nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. Frank suppressed the desire to let out a relieved sigh; he had never told them what happened to him.

_And I never will, _He finished.

"So," Mark said slowly. "Any ideas why I'm suddenly _Lieutenant_ _Ericsson?_"

He smiled at the sabre,

"I haven't the foggiest," He replied. "Truth be told, I'm surprised I'm not referred to by something else," He turned back to the rain-sodden vista beyond the window. "Seems there's been a lot of security measures happening around th-"

He cut himself short, startled out of his trail of thought by an unexpected - and vigorous - vibration in his pocket. What confused him more, however, was why _Livin' on a Prayer_ emanated from there as well. He stared at his pocket in confusion, tacitly reaching his hand into it.

_Of course, _he thought, suddenly feeling foolish. He gingerly pulled out a mobile phone - given to him by Sam a few days before, he recalled - and set about trying to find the button that would answer the call.

Having found it, he planted it to his ear,

"Hello?"

_"Afternoon, Frank!" _Hudson's voice boomed. _"Has your chariot arrived?"_

He grinned, mouthing 'James' silently at Mark,

"Yes, our chariot has indeed arrived!" He replied. "But we're a little confused as to why Mark has a surname, and why it happens to be _Ericsson_."

_Or why your ringtone is hair metal, _he added mentally.

The wolf's voice laughed sincerely,

_"Trust me, considering one of the other choices was 'Herdley', this is by far the least embarrassing choice of surname our supposedly sophisticated security division could think up."_

Frank paused, allowing the silence to linger for a moment,

"How is everything holding up?" He asked, all humour gone from his voice.

_"...as well as could be, given the circumstances," _Hudson's voice suddenly sounded drained to Frank's ears. "_We've gotten three messages from Manny this morning; apparently the council has demanded yours and Mark's presence immediately to resolve a new dispute." _

Frank sat bolt upright.

"A new one? But we just solved one just yesterd-" He stopped himself, taking a deep breath as he did so. "Tell them we'll be back by the afternoon, their time."

_"I already have."_ Hudson replied.

Frank paused, letting his eyes drift across the vista.

"How's Diego?" He asked tentatively.

Silence greeted him for a long while.

"_He's critical," _Hudson said, all the humour drained from his voice. "_But stable. Doctors are still considering amputation, though. His leg is ruined."_

He snapped his eyes shut, willing the tears to remain at bay.

"Damnit." He murmured.

"_I'm sorry I can't give you any better news," _Hudson replied sombrely. _"I hate to change the subject, but are you all set for the tribunal?"_

"No, not really." Frank replied earnestly.

_"I don't blame you," _Hudson's voice muttered. _"This is all just a god-awful mess; the sooner it's all done with, the better...Frank, sorry, but I have to run. I'll see both of you at the tribunal."_

"Wait, Ja-"

He cut himself off, staring wearily at his phone. He glanced over at Mark and sighed once more.

The Shard loomed over them like a great sheet of wet ice as Frank slipped the phone back into his pocket. He looked at the structure, noting the ominous quality lent it by the dark, dreary day, smiling slightly at the aptness of it; a dark day to relive one of their darkest times.

"Here we go again." He sighed.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Sam heard the car before she saw it, its noise echoing off of the walls to the underground car park like a hungry, angry beast.

In spite of the car's noise, she could still hear the hustle and bustle of the media echoing down the same passage. She pictured them, hundreds of journalists armed with cameras, phones and notepads, jostling for the best spot to grab a slither of news in time to grab the headlines of tomorrow's papers. She let out an annoyed huff, knowing full well her gambit to hide _who _was attending the tribunal was already failing; the media's very presence confirmed it.

_Someone must have let something slip, _she thought. _Something must have-_

As the car came into sight, she forced her thoughts into silence. Even so, watching the car come to a halt, she privately wondered how long it would be before she saw the herd's identities plastered across newspaper headlines around the world. A chill of fear went down her spine; she knew such publicity would spell disaster for all involved. Distracted though she was, outwardly she smiled as the car doors flung open.

"Jesus Christ Sam!" Frank exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "Why are the paparazzi here?"

She shrugged,

"Newspapers are desperate for any story these days, even a dull one about a tribunal," She lied. "Welcome to Gallifrey House."

"You mean the _Shard, _right?" Frank replied with a smirk.

"Sorry dear, wrong timeline," She retorted playfully. She paused as Mark appeared from behind the car.

"..._Mark_?" She said, surprised. She knew he had grown up, but she still remembered him as the little cub she had met decades - from her perspective - before. He looked strong, composed, even authoritative in his uniform.

_And a lot like Diego, _she noted. Her smile faded slightly.

Mark shot her a sheepish grin,

"Hey Sam," He said. "Long time no see!"

"You can say that again," She remarked, trying to avoid any mention of how much he had grown. "Uniforms suit you, Mark."

A hand on her shoulder reminded her of her aide's presence.

"Madame Secretary General," the aide whispered. "We're on a tight schedule."

"Right," She murmured, nodding slightly. "In that case, gentlemen, follow me."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

It had felt like hours since Frank and Mark had been offered to sit down and wait for a few moments until they were needed. Comfortable though the seats were, they had been placed in a spacious, unadorned hallway - with nothing to occupy them - left to their own devices. Frank rued the lack of a clock, or even a picture, to help pass the time.

As the minutes passed by, both man and sabre had gradually begun to shuffle uncomfortably, neither desiring to remain waiting for much longer. Slowly, but surely, both of them opted at glancing at their watches, letting out sighs, even tapping their fingers as loudly as they could.

"So," Mark said, boredom infecting his voice. "This is what Sam calls a 'tight schedule?'"

Frank smirked,

"Cut her some slack," He replied. "It's not as if her job has anything to do with managing time."

Both of them looked at each other, utterly straight-faced. Like a catalyst, merely meeting the other's gaze sent them bursting into raucous laughter. Frank knew the joke wasn't funny, but he didn't care; after over an hour of sitting with nothing, _anything_ seemed funny.

"Seriously, Frank," Mark said, wiping away a tear from laughing so hard. "Why are we waiting so long?"

"Haven't the foggiest," He replied. "Guess they're just pressed for time with other things."

"And the puns just keep on flying, don't they?"

Spinning round in their seats, both laid relieved eyes on James. Frank smirked to himself, trying to recall the time when wolves in uniform no longer seemed odd to him.

"Yes, yes," James replied witheringly, yet his smile betrayed his amusement as he switched into a high pitched, deeply sarcastic tone. "'_Lo! A talking wolf in a uniform! Truly the world has gone mad!_'. Honestly, Frank, does your gaze have to be so..._revealing_? Or your thought patterns so outdated?"

"Try sitting with nothing to do for an hour," Frank retorted playfully. "_Then _tell me you wouldn't think of outlandish things."

"True enough," The wolf grinned. "Now come on, you have both been summoned."

"Summoned?" Mark quizzed.

James nodded, seemingly sizing up the sabre from beneath his peaked cap.

"You haven't seen many twenty first century proceedings, have you?" He said.

"Nope," Mark replied. "Only what the Bredelands have taught me."

"Well, to be honest, that's close enough," The wolf remarked. "And this isn't going to be a great lesson in how things run here; this is very quickly turning into a jurisdictional nightmare. Now come on, we're late as it is."

"Yeah, about that; why are we late?" Mark said.

"Unforeseen situations," James called back, his tone oddly, forcibly flat. "Things that, to quote you, Frank, can wait."

Looking up, it took him several moments to spot James, already nearly a dozen paces away from them. Frank and Mark shared a bemused glance, wondering how the wolf could have made his way down the passageway so quickly. James glanced back as he held open a door they didn't even realise had been there all that time, smiling smugly.

"Now, Captain, Lieutenant, _you're _late."

Making his way down the corridor, Frank suddenly felt the gravity of the situation weigh down on him. He didn't want to relive the last six months of their lives, much less in front of a tribunal.

He didn't want to remember...

"Oh, and two things," James said, cutting through Frank's thoughts. "Sam has asked you to try not to mention you are the Guardians, as less than a handful actually know that you actually _exist_, letalone who you are."

"Ok," Mark stated. "And the second thing?"

James smiled,

"I believe her words were, 'And tell them again, for the love of God, _not to mention they're the Guardians.'_"

"Sensing a pattern here," Frank replied, smirking. "Let her know that we'll keep it in mind."

Passing through the door, he just caught a glimpse of the wolf rolling his eyes,

"She was afraid you were going to say that." He muttered.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The courtroom, to Frank's surprise, was packed to the rafters. A few glances told him that no journalists or public filled the viewing galleries as row upon row of military regalia revealed themselves. Yet amongst the countless unfamiliar faces Frank saw, it was the ones he recognised, both the ones he expected - Sam stood sombrely dressed ahead of him - and the ones he didn't that caught him off guard; above him, staring down amongst the cold steel railings and warm wood panels of the balcony, he could see Buck, Crash, Eddie and Claire. He sensed that Mark - just as unmoving as he was - had seen them too. None of their herd, staring down at them, looked happy to be there; but it wasn't boredom that he saw on their faces.

"Frank," Mark whispered behind him. "Has Claire been...has she been _crying?_"

He didn't respond at once. Staring at his wife, the realisation slowly dawned on him.

And chilled him to the bone.

_Diego, _he thought. _Something has happened to Diego._

"Not sure," He whispered back at Mark, hoping the sabre wouldn't hear the lie in his voice. "Can't tell from here."

Mark nodded slowly. Inwardly, Frank winced; he knew the sabre well enough to know when he didn't believe what he heard.

"Ok, good," Mark replied, evidently lying. "Just thought I'd check."

Gestured forward by James, both man and sabre sat down where commanded to. Frank looked on, noting the imposing dais ahead of them, the craning necks behind them, the overwhelming feeling they were actually on trial...

A voice, seemingly from nowhere, boomed across the hall.

"All rise for the Right Honourable Justice Helen Johnson!"

Virtually the entire room, Frank included, snapped to attention. From nowhere, a human woman appeared, clad in all the traditional trappings of the judicial system. Frank fought with his eyebrow, forcing it to remain perfectly still on his head; tribunals were - _traditionally, _he thought, resisting the urge to smirk - judged by senior military officials.

_So, this only has the appearance of a tribunal, _he concluded. _Odd._

Suddenly interested, he studied the judge as she ascended to her seat. Her hair was mostly hidden underneath the traditional - and ridiculous looking, in his estimation - wig of all judges, yet what he could see was silvered. Her eyes, even though not focussed on him, already conveyed a stern and attentive stare he hadn't expected to see from what was, all told, an amiable face; he could see the laughter lines, even from his vantage point.

He wasn't sure whether any of that boded well for them or not.

He wasn't even sure what legal system he had the misfortune of being involved in.

"Thank you," The judge said, seating herself in one smooth motion as she spoke. "At ease. Please be seated."

Frank kept his eyes fixed on her as the room filled with the noise of hundreds of people sitting down. She rustled her papers, staring attentively at them.

"As per the request of the General Secretary of the United Nations Temporal Commission, I am obliged to state that these proceedings are classified," Judge Johnson stated. "If anything that is said in these proceedings are discussed beyond this room, even with persons currently present, it will be considered a crime and subject to a military tribunal," The judge smiled slightly. "In fact, this case is apparently so classified, I only know that this court is assembled to judge on a case of treason, and nothing else, which I would like to be on the record as a first for me."

_Sense of humour, _Frank noted with relief. _Good._

"So let us begin," Judge Johnson glanced down at her papers. "This court calls forward Captain Howard and Lieutenant Ericsson."

Rising to his feet, Frank suddenly felt hundreds of pairs of eyes rest on him. He could practically _feel _Mark's nervousness beside him.

"Captain Howard," The judge said, eyes piercing into him. "Could you give this court your full name, please."

"Francis David Howard, your honour," Frank replied. "Although, with respect, I am no longer an officer."

Johnson arched an eyebrow. She leant forward with interest, clasping her hands before her. In the corner of his eye, he could see Sam drop her face into her hands in dismay.

"For a civilian, Captain, you seem curiously dressed," She said, smirking. "Also, I have your record in front of me, and it would argue against your statement. You have seen many tours of duty, received commendations and medals in many peacekeeping missions across several theatres, and are now one of the UNTC's many military advisors...and all of that in the last fifteen years, running up to just last month. Is this information somehow incorrect?"

"With respects, your honour, the records you have in front of you may well indeed be true for the Frank Howard of this timeline, but I am not him."

"Frank, what are you doing?" Sam hissed quietly at him, her voice drowned out by the gentle, throbbing noise of growing whispered behind them. He pretended not to hear, eyes still fixed firmly ahead.

He took a deep breath, trying to shut out the rising murmurs behind him. The judge didn't move, yet her gaze seemed to grow more intense.

"Would you care to explain, Captain?" She asked.

Frank took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a long moment.

"Are you a religious woman, your honour?"

The judge blinked at the question. He heard Sam curse softly under her breath.

"I'm not sure how that answers my question, Captain," She replied sharply.

"With respects, your honour, it will do," Frank replied. "Are you a religious woman?"

She paused for a long moment, mulling over her response. Frank felt like she was gauging his very being with her gaze.

"Yes," She replied. "I am."

"Then you might be familiar with one of the stories that almost every myth and religion on Earth has in common," He continued. "The Chronicles of the Guardians?"

"Captain Howard, what do the Chronicles have to do with my question?" The judge snapped.

"_Everything_, your honour," Frank replied. "I was the leader of an expedition of seven humans through time, whose actions, along with the actions many others, inadvertently led to a battle still remembered now, a battle now known as the battle of Halstead Pass, and thus the origins of the timeline we are now living in. If you wish to quickly reacquaint yourself on what happened, the secretary general has informed me often that our story is now wedged between Deuteronomy and Judges, or could be found in the stories of virtually every culture on Earth,"

He wasn't sure whether it was shock - or horror - he saw on the judge's face. The noise behind him began to grow feverishly. He shouted out the last sentence, knowing full well he wouldn't be heard before too long,

"The answer to your question, your honour, is that I am _not_ the man whose file is before you, because I _am_ one of twelve members of a herd that are the _guards _of a decent and sizeable chunk of the ancestors of every single person here present!"

Frank remained calmly standing in the chaos that ensued, surrounded by ecstatic shouting, angry heckles and excited chatter. He glanced around him, noting that all of the herd members were as still as he was, seemingly bemused by the response occurring around them. The judge, lost for words, simply sat back in her chair, eyes riveted onto him.

He could feel Sam's seething gaze prickling his skin.

"This court is adjourned!" The judge shouted out, bringing a modicum of peace to the room. "We shall reconvene at 6 o clock this evening. Good afternoon, dismissed!"

He watched as the judge disappeared from sight, wondering what exactly he had done wrong; after all, he reasoned, he had stated nothing but the truth.

_You didn't even get to the point where you could say the oath, _he noted. _Odd._

Sam's hand gripped angrily around his arm, dragging his attention into the deeply angry eyes of his sister.

"You and I need to talk," She growled.

"Apparently so," He remarked. "What just happened?"

Her eyes narrowed to slits. With a gesture of her head, he suddenly felt the presence of two more sets of infinitely stronger hands grip his shoulders.

"Guards," She stated. "Please escort Captain Howard and Lieutenant Ericsson _swiftly _to my office, and make them comfortable."

Mark's gaze hardened,

"Sam, are we under arrest?" He asked.

She blinked, as if only just remembering Mark was beside her.

"What? No-"

"Then tell your guards to back off, or they will be getting comfortable in a _hospital_," Mark's tone was so menacingly forceful, the guards almost instinctively backed off. "_We_ will make our way to your office, and _we _will make ourselves comfortable. Understood?"

Sam stared at him in shock,

"This is _my_ turf, Mark," Sam snapped. "You don't tell me what to do."

"We are allies, we're not under arrest and, right here and now, oh yes I do," Mark retorted. "And if you want us to _remain_ allies, then you'll play nicely."

It was Frank's turn to blink. He hadn't expected anyone - least of all _Mark_ - to throw such a serious threat in Sam's direction. Beneath the angry exterior, Frank could see a glint of panic in Sam's eyes. Slowly, but surely, he watched as she deflated somewhat, the gravity of the threat forcing to her back down.

"Fine," She muttered. "Make yourselves at home, I'll be there in a little while, and then we are going to have a _very _long chat about all of this."

-x-x-x-x-x-x

17,985 BC

-x-x-x-x-x-x

Manny looked out on his valley, trying to remember what it looked like long ago. His eyes danced over the thriving village he called home, onto the villages he now saw in the distance as well.

He chuckled to himself; he couldn't remember when exactly his little valley became home to almost ten thousand people.

Slowly, he turned his eyes back to the homestead he sat in, remembering the months it took them to build it. All over the place, he saw reminders of his herd; Frank's discarded jacket, Buck's knife beside the fire, Diego's radio...

He let out a sigh, thoughts immediately drawn to one of his oldest friends.

"Manny!" Ellie called out as she appeared beyond the lip of the hill, Sid fast asleep on her back. "There you are! We've been looking for you! We need to go! They've asked for us!"

He rolled his eyes; he knew a few moments break was too good to be true.

"For the last time, wolfie said they were coming back this afternoon!" He said. "I mean, _come on_, can't they just make nice? Do they really need us to solve every-"

Ellie smiled,

"They aren't looking for you," She replied. "Apparently, the Bredelands has agreed not to fall apart until we can go over this afternoon."

He turned to look at her, growing more and more confused.

"Well...if it's not the council...where are we going?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

2065 AD

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Manny paced the floor of Sam's office, confused as to why he had been asked to come. Glancing around for the hundredth time, the mammoth was utterly, completely certain;

He and Ellie were alone in the office, and none the wiser why they were there.

"Remind me to sit on Sam a little," He muttered. "She's gotta learn that, when she _summons _us, she has to actually _be here."_

He looked over at Ellie, who looked as serene as he seemed agitated. She took a sip of tea, enjoying the view the office allowed of the city beyond.

"Relax, big guy," She replied. "I'm sure she has a good reason for bringing us here."

"I _was _relaxing!" He complained. "That was the first time I got to sit down with nothing to do in three weeks!"

"That might work on the others," She said calmly. "But that isn't gonna work on me; you and I both know _Sid's_ been more active this week than you."

"Hey!" Sid exclaimed. Till then, he had been silent in his chair, nose deep in a book of philsophy.

All Manny heard, however, was a book closing for some reason.

"Woah, woah, WOAH!" Manny said, pointing his trunk jaggedly at Ellie. "I am _not _as lazy as Sid! Even if I _tried_, I couldn't be as lazy as Sid!"

"Um, hello?" Sid butted in. "The guy you're insulting...is right here."

Ellie threw up her trunk, as if pleading for calm. Her eyes pleaded for anything but,

"Well so-rry!" She said. "Guess I hit a nerve there, I'll back off."

"...do either of you realise I'm here?" Sid asked. He affected a mock thinking pose. "Now, should I use my invisibility to do good, or crime?"

Manny huffed, utterly oblivious to anyone but Ellie.

"I could crush you, you know." He said flatly.

"Only cos you're lazy and have been piling up those pounds," Ellie said airily. "Do you think Sam would let us have a holiday here someday?"

His pacing slowed to a halt.

"Huh?" Was all he could muster, even as he was thinking '_I AM NOT FAT!' _at her.

"You know, a _holiday_?" She repeated, smiling. "That travelling thing you hate that we do sometimes anyway?"

He grunted.

"The last holiday we went on nearly killed us! A dozen times!"

"Yeah, but this time we won't have a murderous sabre on our-" She paused, making a face at him. "A _dozen_ times? Pfft, as if!"

"But it did!" He retorted, trunk flailing wildly. "Holidays are just bad for us!"

"Name them," She replied. "Go on. Every one of the twelve times we nearly died."

He maintained eye contact, hoping she wouldn't see his long pause for what it truly was. She let out a huff, smiling to herself.

"You can't recall them, can you." She stated.

"Oh! Me! Me!" Sid exclaimed. "There was the incident in the valley, the gorge, the meltdown valley and Glacier Pass...huh, we seemed to keep nearly dying in a lot of valleys...or ravin-"

"Of course I do," Manny retorted, unaware Sid was talking. "Just thinking, that's all."

"You seemed to know them a minute ago." Ellie stated, grinning.

_Damn, _he thought.

"There were a lot of things exploding, few valleys collapsing, lots of fights..." He mumbled evasively. "And I am not lazier than Sid."

"...this isn't funny anymore," Sid grumbled. "I. Am. Right. _Here._"

"Yes you are dear," Ellie said, eyes distracted by the vista. "He's actually been _doing_ something recently. Other than standing around as the council argues."

He stared at her, words failing to spill from his head into his mouth at the sheer audacity of his mate.

"_Reading_?" Manny spluttered. "Just because he's reading some dead guy's thoughts about stuff makes _me_ lazier than him?"

"Plato is not just some guy!" Sid protested. No one listened.

Ellie, grin creeping onto her face, opened her mouth to speak, only to be distracted as the double doors, set subtly into the back of the room, swung open. Her grin changed from its mischievous beginnings into one of happiness...and quickly into one of confusion.

"Mark, what are you wearing?" Ellie asked.

"And hello to you too, Ellie!" Frank replied chirpily. "Yes, we're good thanks, how are things back at the homestead?"

Ellie ignored him entirely, eyes still fixed on the sabre. Manny, curiosity piqued, joined her in ogling.

"Yeah, yeah, all of that...but why are you wearing that?" Manny quizzed.

"Sam told us to," Mark replied. "Oh, and just as a heads up, Frank may or may not have just kicked up a storm."

Both mammoths switched their gaze onto Frank, who had plumped himself onto a sofa. Manny arched his eyebrow, amazed at how the human managed to rid himself of his tie, jacket and hat, grabbed himself a cup of tea, and proceeded to look nonchalant in the space of a few seconds.

"What did you do this time?" Manny asked.

Frank shrugged, taking a sip from his tea.

"No doubt a certain pissed off Secretary General is going to swoop in and say it in a moment anyway, so why repeat the inevitable?"

"You know, your habit of not answering a question got boring a long time ago," Manny replied. He turned to Mark, gesturing towards the human. "What did he do?"

Mark glanced down briefly, raising the mammoth's suspicions it really _was _a storm that had been kicked up.

"Frank...er..." Mark began. "Well, it seems that...ah...only a handful of people here know we even exist."

"Only a handful of people in _here_ seem to realise _I _exist!" Sid piped up.

"And?" Ellie quizzed, as she shot a mischievous glance at Manny. Finally, he glanced over at Sid, realised what the glance was about, and grinned back at Ellie.

_I guess pretending that we were ignoring him is better than telling him we didn't realise he was there, _he concluded.

"Well, ah, now a few hundred people know..." Mark stated. "Frank told an entire court he was a member of our herd, the court went crazy, and Sam is, well, annoyed."

"You could say that."

Everyone but Frank turned. No one, it seemed - least of all Manny - expected to see such a fiery, angry look in Sam's eyes. Yet fiery she was, and her stare focussed solely on Frank. Manny stood back, half expecting the human to burst into flames from the stare alone. The human merely opted to sit down and pour himself some tea.

"Brilliant performance out there, Frank," She growled. "Now there's no stopping it; the presence of the Guardians here is going to leak. Well done, _big brother_, well done. Especially seeing as I gave you instructions _not _to mention it."

Frank's gaze hardened, placing his cup onto the nearest table forcefully.

"Huh, yeah, I did hear that in passing," He snapped quietly. "I also remember giving _you _instructions about letting us know how Diego is doing regularly. And if anything happens to him or his leg."

Just the mention of Diego's name sent Manny's eyes dancing between the two humans.

"What?" He exclaimed. "What did I miss?"

"A good question Manny," Frank growled, rising to his feet. "And what exactly _did_ we miss, _little sister_? Oh, maybe the fact that Diego has had to have his leg _amputated_."

"WHAT?" Manny, Ellie, Sid and Mark said in unison. Sam blinked; though her exterior hadn't changed, her eyes were a study of panic.

"How did you know that?" She replied quickly.

"You mean it's _true_?" Manny barked. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"It happened less than an hour ago!" Sam said hurriedly. "There just wasn't the-"

"Wasn't the what? The _time_?" Frank stated angrily. "And I knew because Claire was in the court room crying. She doesn't know many people here, and any news from home would have gotten to all of us, which leaves just one thing it could have been; it was someone she knew and cared about who was _here. _I've seen you and James today, and if it were Terry it would have been you whose eyes were watery. Thus Diego. Thank you for confirming that for me. Any other things about us that are on a need-to-know basis? That would be very us-"

"Don't dare lecture me on the right to know," Sam spat, fire once more flaring in her eyes. "You have just put a whole load of good people in danger, and yourselves! Are you really such a _moron_ that you don't understand why we've kept your identities a secret? Or that fact you even _exist_ a secret? All it takes is one psycho, one loner, one idiot with a gun who _thinks_ he hears God, and then what? So don't DARE pull that one on m-"

A gentle, but firm, rap on the door broke everyone out of the argument. Manny glanced over at the human woman standing in the doorway, wincing as he realised the door had been _open._

_Great, _he thought, _everyone just heard that._

To his surprise, Mark, Frank and Sam all immediately bolted upright, shock registering on their faces.

"Your honour!" Sam exclaimed, tidying away a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "This is an unexpected pleasure!"

The woman levelled a stern stare at Sam.

"I agree with the good Captain here," She stated. "There are many things that are need-to-know about this case. Let's begin with how a Biblical character came to be standing in my courtroom today."

As her stare swept the room, Manny could see the faintest smile creep across her face.

"Or how it would appear that I'm standing in a room full of them, even as we speak," She added, the smile growing with every word. "Last thing I expected when accepting this hearing was..._this._ Am I to expect Moses and Abraham at these proceedings as well?"

"That would take some explaining, your honour," Sam replied, quickly checking her watch. "And I'm not sure we have the time to explain it properly."

The woman checked her watch, allowing a genuine smile.

"By my reckoning, we have at least five hours until the court reconvenes," She said. "And suddenly I feel in the mood for a long story."

Manny and Frank glanced at each other,

"With respect, your honour, a member of our her- our family, is in hospital," Frank said. "And we're going to see him. The court session later isn't really good for us."

Her smile disappeared, replaced by understanding. She nodded slightly,

"I understand," She replied. "And the Secretary General here suggested this might happen, so I took the precaution of postponing it till tomorrow afternoon," She replied. She moved between the herd, all eyes fixed on her as she sat onto a sofa. "Go see your family member; I'll hear your story in the morning."

Manny smiled at the woman,

"Thank you," He said softly. He glanced at Sam intently. "Where is he?"

"He's here," She stated. "In the infirmary. Floor B7."

He nodded, glanced at everyone else, and ran for the door.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The judge watched as the mass of people exited, waiting until they were no longer visible before seating herself, looking keenly at Sam. She helped herself to the nearest available drink, mildly surprised to find it to be whiskey.

_Ah well, at least it's noon, _she decided. She poured herself a drink and leant back, staring.

"In the mean time, Secretary General," She said, motioning towards the sofa opposite. "Would you be so kind as to let me know what the hell I've signed up for?"

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

**End of Chapter 1**

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

**Lo! A courtroom drama in the Ice Age community? Whatever next? A talking wolf!**

**Ha, no; everyone knows wolves can't talk... :P**

**I was planning on having this chapter be longer, but that felt like an endpoint. Fear not, though; the second chapter is well under way, so it shouldn't be too long to wait!**

**But before you move along, what did you think of this? Let me know by clicking on that delicious button below this text. Go on, you know you want to; that button would be the finest cuisine were it food, so dig in!**

**...I don't know why the A/Ns for this chapter are so odd...ah well, just roll with it I suppose!**

**Till chapter 2**

**Adieu**

**NOTE: Some of you might highlight that I made an error with Manny concluding that only he and Ellie were in Sam's office...and then Sid speaks. That was entirely intentional; I was writing it from Manny's perspective after all :P**


	2. Cordially Invited

**Hello everyone!**

**Many thanks for getting this far! I realise my first chapter wasn't short, so your being here means I must have done good somehow. By the by, my thanks to DiegoRedeemedLover (DRL) for beta-ing this story for me! **

**Anyways, without further ado...**

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

Manny looked on, unsure whether he wanted to reel, cry, or just throw up at the sight in front of him. Peering through layers of glass, the herd didn't speak, staring at their fallen member. Diego lay unnervingly still in his bed, surrounded by instruments and doctors. Yet his eyes never stayed on anything else except the stump where his leg used to be. As a doctor walked up towards them, he finally willed his eyes to tear away from the bloodied stump.

"How is he, Nigel?" Frank asked quietly.

Nigel let out a sigh, ripping off his gloves.

"Diego's critical, but stable. We're keeping him sedated for the time being, and we want to keep him here for at least a week. If some of you could be present when he wakes up, that would ease the shock."

"We were going to do that anyway, even if you didn't let us," Manny replied gruffly. "When do you reckon he'll be awake?"

He watched the doctor keenly, sensing his weariness, his frustration, his...

_He looks like he hasn't slept in days, _he realised. Nigel rubbed his over-tired eyes,

"He won't be awake for the next day or so," He said.

"What happens then?" Ellie said.

"Once Diego's recovered, then we can offer him a prosthesis," Nigel replied. "There have been many advancements in prosthetics over the last few years; we can make it look, move and feel indistinguishable from a real limb...for all intents and purposes, it would be a real leg. And, given the healthy condition he was in prior to the incident, he could theoretically regain full use of it."

"_Theoretically?_" Ellie spluttered. "He has no _leg. _How can he regain full use of something's that's not there anymore?"

Frank reached out, clasping Ellie's tusk gently. His eyes never left Diego.

"A prosthesis is an artificial limb," He murmured. Manny saw tears in his eyes when he turned to look at Ellie. "He's getting a leg back."

"He's not going to see it that way," Mark replied mutedly. "You know he isn't."

"'oo would?" Buck said. "The guy loves to 'unt, an' 'e's going to wake up an' find 'is leg missing... 'e's going to 'ave a 'ard time with this. 'e's not going to take this well."

Manny nodded, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes.

"Yeah," He said. "That's where we come in."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Frank awoke to the sounds of Bon Jovi, and the overpowering sensation that his body hated him. Several pained, agonising moments later, he sat himself up, allowing his eyes to focus. To his slight surprise, he - and the rest of the herd present - was still in the infirmary's waiting room, arrayed in positions he didn't think were possible. Realising the music was still playing, he reached groggily into his pocket, pulling out his phone,

"James, what are you doing calling me in the middle of the night?" He mumbled.

_"Oh damn," _James replied sarcastically. _"My clock is nine hours fast again! There I was thinking it was the morning."_

Frank froze.

"It's nine AM?" He asked, unable to hide the panic in his voice.

_"Indeed," _James replied dryly. _"And there's a certain judge waiting in Sam's office for all of you."_

"Dammit," He groaned. "All right, tell her we'll be there as soon as possible."

Phone tucked away, Frank knew what he had to do. He slowly stood up, carefully placed himself outside of the range of Manny's trunk, and yelled,

"GOOD MORNING EVERYONE! WE'RE LATE! GET UP!"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The Right Honourable Justice Helen Johnson sat back, listening to tales of destruction and death -of skeletons in caves, battles and collapsing valleys - and felt her mind reeling from the information she had just received. It felt like too much, too quickly; she had hoped for a fairly dull, normal session in court when she awoke the day before.

As she sat there- a mere twenty four hours later - she wasn't sure what normal _was_ anymore.

Her gaze flickered between all of the people present; from Captain Howard and Lieutenant Ericsson, over the mammoths, onto the possums, sloth, weasel and woman that had sat down around her. She stared at them, thinking of all the times she had heard their stories as a child, reading up on similar stories about them in countless religious and mythological traditions as a teenager, and had actively doubted the existence of as an adult. Yet there she sat, listening to them, looking at them, knowing that she could reach out and touch them...

_There are churches named after you, _she thought at them, _Mosques! Synagogues! Temples! How are you real? How can you be here?_

"...and, with Soto gone, and nothing left to threaten us, we decided to make a life for ourselves," Manny continued, snatching her attention back to him. "And, eight years later, here we are!"

"Well," Mark said. "Except for what happened...you know, the Bredelands?"

Frank smirked faintly,

"Seeing as that's what the tribunal's about, my guess is that story can-"

"Wait?" Every member of the herd present - Sam included - said in unison.

After a few moments silence, everyone bar Helen burst into laughter. She looked at them in shock. They seemed almost _too _real to her. She had never wondered what it would be like to meet such people, but she had always read them as otherworldly, aloof...

At no point did she expect jokes about each other's verbal tics to come into the fray. Neither did she expect them to drink; it took all her willpower to keep her eyebrows perfectly still as Frank reached over for his _fifth _glass of whiskey. She checked her watch to be certain,

_Biblical characters apparently don't mind getting drunk by noon, _she noted.

"So, your honour," Manny said. His brow furrowed for a moment. "What is your name? Calling you 'your honour' just seems weird."

She sat up, suddenly aware of all the eyes falling on her.

"My name's Helen," She replied falteringly. "Helen will do just fine."

"All right, Helen," Manny said. "What do you think?"

Her tongue suddenly felt like lead in her all-too-dry mouth.

"I-" She stuttered. "I-..._How are you real?_ How can you possibly be _real_?"

"Ay?" The weasel - _Buck, _she reminded herself - exclaimed. "Wot kind of question is that, 'elen?"

"Easy, Buck," Sam said softly. "The lady has just discovered that some central myths to our society are, in fact, _real_. You should be glad she's merely drifting into shock rather than lashing out."

"I'm not drifting into shock," She replied too quickly. "I'm just...how are any of you real? How is this possible? I-I-I-"

"'Ere, mate," Buck said, passing over a glass of whiskey. "It'll 'elp."

She took the glass, avidly downed the drink in one and placed the glass on the table, avoiding all the surprised stares in her direction as she did so.

"I take it this might just, in fact, be a little bit of a shock then?" Frank said ambivalently, even as he was refilling her glass.

She chuckled, downing the next drink in one as well,

"Shock isn't the word I'd use," She remarked. "Actually...I'm not sure whatword _would_ be. This is...well, this is a lot to take in. I just found out one of the oldest myths on earth are fact rather than fiction. It does tend to be a shock when that happens."

She looked down at her glass, suddenly realising just how much she had drunk in such a short space of time. Placing the glass firmly down, she glanced over at Sam, waving off any attempt by Frank to refill her glass.

"Dare I ask _when _the events to be detailed in the tribunal actually occurred?" She asked wryly.

"About twenty thousand years ago," Sam replied.

"Twenty thousand and forty nine years ago, if one wishes to be exact."

Everyone stared at Sid, who pretended to be more interested in the book he was reading, not bothering to hide his smug smile at the herd's surprised expressions. Looking past the sloth, Helen sat up, only then realising that it was much later than she thought. She glanced at the clock, winced, and stood up, quickly smoothing any crinkles that had cropped up on her shirt.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen," She said hurriedly. "It has been an immense surprise, but an absolute honour all the same."

"You're leaving already?" Frank quizzed, rising sloppily out of his seat.

"It was morning when we sat down," She stated. "It is now about two o' clock. I need to get ready for the court session this afternoon," She smirked. "As do you, Captain; if it is not too troublesome to your eminent selves, I would like to see you in the courtroom today at four for the tribunal."

Manny shrugged, eyes clearly suggesting '_Why not?_'. Frank nodded, extending his hand out to her, which she eventually took.

"We'll see you later, then," Frank stated. "Good afternoon, your honour."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Seated back in the courtroom, Frank didn't even need to look around to know that the only persons present were the herd seated in the viewing gallery above, several guards, overdressed officials, Sam and Hudson. He twiddled his thumbs, trying to ignore the nervous fidgeting of the sabre beside him, even as he tried to resist removing the regalia that Sam insisted he wear. Several moments had passed before he shot a questioning glance at Sam, gesturing towards the empty room,

"Let me guess; everyone present yesterday have suddenly - and immediately - found themselves re-assigned to long term duty in eras that are at least a thousand years in the past from this moment." He quipped.

She shot him a smile that held more warmth than he expected,

"Possible," She said, winking. "Or, they were told nine o' clock tomorrow morning."

He furrowed his brow,

"Then why are we here today?" He asked.

"Judge's prerogative," She replied, her smile fading. "Frank, do me a favour; today, can you just...just try and not-"

"Tell the truth?" He remarked flatly.

"Cause me more headaches," She finished, frowning.

Glancing up at the viewing gallery, Frank took in the sight of the rest of the herd - barring Diego, Ben and Peaches - looking on with a collective look that could be safely described as tired. He frowned, eyes once more on the judge's empty dais.

"You're not the only one getting headaches from this case." He grunted.

Before Sam could reply, the guard had announced the judge's arrival. Frank stared at the judge, her eyes intently staring back.

"Good afternoon everyone," She stated. "Please be seated."

Frank went through the motions, giving his oath to tell only the truth when asked to, and taking a seat in the witness stand when asked to. He sat there, gingerly waiting.

"Captain," Judge Johnson said. "In light of the evidence - both public and privately issued yesterday and this morning - I should like you to detail and explain your perspective on the days leading up the beginning of the events to be investigated in this tribunal."

He glanced out at the empty room,

"If I may enquire, your honour, as to why the courtroom is empty for such a request?"

"Context, captain," She replied. "As the presiding judge of this case, it would be immensely helpful to understand the world in which the events take place. Also, as far as the Secretary General informs me, the 'public' in this trial are only present because their commands were supposedly affected by the outcome of the events,"

He winced, suddenly understanding the anger aimed at him the day before.

"And thus, by my reckoning, they would only need to know of the events themselves, not their context," The judge said. "Whereas _I_ would _very _much like to know."

"Ok, then I would be happy to oblige. From which point would your honour wish me to proceed from?"

"The day of the beginning of the events in question, Captain," the judge replied. "If you please."

He took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts, trying to recall what had happened in the run up to everything that had happened to them.

With a sinking heart, he knew it unquestionably began with Diego...

-x-x-x-x-x-

The valley looked serene, calm and peaceful. In the distance, Frank could hear the waters of a nearby stream trickle quietly as it wended its way through the forests. Trees rustled gently in the wind as their leaves were bathed in the brilliant light of the summer sun. He scanned the vista, admiring it briefly, and his senses declared the place empty.

Yet he knew it was brimming with people. People with spears, and even a few who had learnt to use a bow.

People who, clearly, had finally learnt how to hide themselves.

"Not bad," A voice murmured beside him. "Not bad at all. Can't see them anywhere."

He glanced sideways at the owner of the voice. Barring the black belt strapped around his waist to hold his radio, the sabre hadn't aged a day in all the time he had known him. Frank grinned,

"Seems like we've trained them well." He murmured.

The human smirked slightly,

"Almost too well, if we can't find them," He replied. He shot a mirth-filled glance at him. "I blame you for that, Diego."

Diego chuckled quietly.

"That's rich, coming from the guy who taught them how to use _spears," _His gaze flickered down at the rifle, and back up at the human's eyes. "You have remembered to put paint-shots and not _actual_ bullets in this time, right? Frank?"

Frank slumped slightly,

"Are you going to bring that up _every time?_" He groaned. "That was _one _time, and a year ago at that! Let it drop, please?"

"Scared the life out of Ronald, though," Diego replied, smirking. "That kid was-"

Diego stopped himself, ears twitching as if he strained to hear. Listening intently, Frank heard it too; subtle though it was, he heard a sound. The distinct sound of a twig snapping, barely thirty yards away from them behind a rock outcropping. He smirked to himself;

_First mistake, _he thought. _Finally._

He paused a few moments, allowing the incoming attacker to believe he went undetected. Excitement welled up in him, his muscles tensing slightly in anticipation. Without moving, he cast his eyes upwards, seeing the same look on Frank's face.

"Show time," Frank whispered.

"Show time," Diego agreed.

In an instant, both of them flew into motion. Diego leapt onto the boulder, pouncing on the would-be attacker with a speed borne of practice. The sheer force of the impact sent the attacker - a sabre only slightly smaller than Diego - tumbling. With one swipe he smacked the spear out of the sabre's right paw, pinning the animal firmly to the ground. A mere moment later, Frank rushed beside him, rifle trained at the immobilised form. Without so much as a breath, he squeezed the trigger.

The rifle sounded muted, almost comically silent, as it fired. The form yelped out in pain as paint exploded onto his fur, staining it a bright blue.

"And you're out!" Diego murmured, grinning slightly. "Nice try Mark."

Mark let out a groan, mingled with displeasure at being caught, and a hint of pain. Job done, Diego allowed the sabre to wriggle out of his grip.

"I was so sure you didn't see me this time!" He grumbled.

For a moment, Diego forgot what they were doing, and gently placed his paw on the young sabre's shoulder,

"Don't beat yourself up, kid," He said gently. "You did good, _really _good, to get this close."

Mark smiled slightly,

"Thanks, Dee," He replied. "But that didn't stop me getting a paintball to the gut."

Diego grinned, giving Mark a strong pat on the back,

"One day you'll get out of this paintless," He said. "I can promise you that! Now get back to the training arena, we've got twenty other would-be attackers to cover in paint!"

Mark nodded and promptly slunk his way back through the trees, eventually disappearing from view. Diego looked on proudly; he knew the kid was beating himself up, but he really _did _do well; Frank could tell that the fact Mark had gotten within thirty yards without Diego's keen sense of hearing - or smell - picking up on his approach impressed the old sabre no end.

"You know, it's a hard life sometimes, being a teacher," Frank murmured.

Diego turned in time to see a cheeky smirk painted on the human's face. He couldn't help but chuckle,

"Easy for you to say," He retorted. "You get to _shoot_ students practically daily."

"And you get to practically maul them," Frank responded.

"True."

Smiles crept onto their faces, morphing into wide, toothy grins,

"Ready to go hunt some more?" Frank asked.

"You even need to ask?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Frank and Diego stood in front of twenty one bruised, sore students. All of them had some form of bright blue paint on their bodies, and all of them looked displeased.

Whether it was because of their getting caught, or the shame of being _painted_, Frank didn't know. But as he looked at the sea of blue paint, he had to use all of his will to stifle the laughter rising up in him; granted, they might not appreciate being covered in paint, but that just made it all the more amusing.

He knew that exerting his will to suppress the laughter made it look like he was wearing a disappointed scowl, but he reckoned the students would rather see that than him pointing and laughing his lungs out.

"All right!" He said loudly. "Listen up!"

The bunch of disgruntled animals silenced immediately, all eyes fixed on Frank. He took the time to look at all of them in the eyes. It was hard for him to be stern with them; he knew their families, and some of them were Ben's friends...

_And Mark is family, _his mind added.

He shook the thoughts aside; he needed to be stern. It could be the difference between life and death. With that in mind, he took a deep breath,

"Today's training exercise went well," He stated. "But we had some mistakes. Mistakes that could cost lives."

He paused, allowing the thought to simmer.

"If you want to be a member of the militia, defending our borders from beasts and packs that would want for nothing more than to eat your family and friends, we .mistakes."

He turned and nodded at Diego, who promptly moved forward to address the group, whose heads were all now turned down.

"Let me first start off by congratulating you all on being almost unseen," He said, casting a glance at Mark and smiled. The sabre smiled back.

"But Frank is right; _almost _unseen is still not good enough. When you are tracking an invading group, you cannot pause or freeze or wait for them to make the first move. If you have a clear shot, or means of immobilising them, take it. Also remember to take care where you step; every snapped twig or even the sound of a leaf crushing could alert them to your presence."

The group looked sullen and downcast. Frank winced inside; he knew then that they had been _too_ tough on them. Suddenly their appearances lost all amusement for him. He took a deep breath, letting his shoulders slump slightly.

"Look, guys," He said softly. "I know we are being hard on you. But that's because we care; if you are spotted before you can properly fight them off, then there's a chance you could get injured, maybe even killed. We care about you guys, and want to train you to be the best you can be,"

He smiled slightly as he saw his words have the intended effect. The sullenness was gone, replaced by something akin to understanding.

"The truth is, you guys did really, _really _well today, and we are proud of you," The students now smiled. _Good, _he thought. "Please remember that we are only hard on you because we care. If a pack tries to enter our borders they won't be friendly. They will aim to kill you, and then kill your families. _That _is why we train you - and all the militia - this hard; you will be essentially the only thing standing between lions and tigers and bears...and your friends, families and loved ones."

He knew they knew this. Everyone who signed up for militia training knew this. But if there was one, inalienable truth that Frank had learnt anything over the years, it was that people needed to hear something aloud time and time again, even if only to remember the importance of it.

"Well done, everyone," Diego said, cutting through Frank's thoughts. "Now go, get cleaned up, go home and have lunch. We'll see you tomorrow at mid-morning. Class dismissed."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Frank had long come to the conclusion that the village, no matter how large it grew, had a rhythm of its own; it was so predictable, things could be timed by its waxing and waning activities. He didn't even need to look at the sky to know what time of day it was; with children darting about his feet as they were weaving their way through the thronging main street, he knew it had to be noon.

"Ah, the sweet serenity of village life," He remarked dryly. "All we need is some smog, a few traffic jams, and we'll be all set."

Though the sabre smiled faintly, Frank knew he wasn't really paying attention.

"You want to say something," He said. "So say it."

"Do you think we've got enough militia now?" Diego asked earnestly.

Frank tried to shrug, but found himself quickly dodging an antelope running in the opposite direction. Lesson learnt, he opted to focus on not dying and waited until they were safely out of the village to answer.

"This isn't a small valley, Dee; Sid and Buck's most recent guess placed the valley's population at almost twenty thousand-"

"Yeah, but," Diego contented.

"-_and_, if we don't count the twenty or so we're training at the moment, we only have a militia of about _two_ _hundred_ to protect them," He continued. "And besides, given what happened to the..._other_ herd...it seems better to be safe than sorry. Do I need to remind you that the Remnant have threatened us _again_ recently?"

"Yeah, but that's exactly it," Diego stated, pausing just at the base of hill that led to the homestead. "For almost a decade, the Remnant have been all talk and no action-"

"Thankfully." Frank added quickly. The sabre nodded in agreement,

"Thankfully. But what I'm sayin' is that two hundred is more than enough to protect the valley. Especially if they had rifl-"

_Not this again. _

For years, Frank had had to endure the same argument aimed at himself, which he then dealt with by aiming it at Sam. Every single time it was the same; the valley would demand rifles, Sam would say no, Frank got it in the neck because _she_ said no, the valley proceeded by demanding rifles. And her response was always as original.

"This might come as a shock to you," He interjected mockingly. "But I often ponder her argument from the shiny advanced truck we have, equipped with all the latest gadgets, in the shadow of our very own, distinctly _large_, time machine. And - here's the shocking part - I tend to find her arguments just as specious as you do. So leave me be on this matter, ok?"

"Yeah, but-" Diego attempted.

Frank promptly let his view on the matter be known. For several moments, they walked up the hill in silence.

"Just for the record, that phrase makes no sense," Diego said curtly. "You need to brush up on your anatomy if you think it's even _possible_ for Sam's head to be shoved up her own a-"

"YOU!"

Manny's trunk pointed accusingly at Frank, leading everyone's gaze to the near-murderous stare of his. Seated as he was in the homestead, opposite Buck, Frank couldn't help but smile.

The mammoth was playing chess, and it didn't take a master to tell he was losing.

Terribly.

"YOU!" Manny once more accused. "You knew this would happen! You brought this game into my life to make me miserable."

"You _love_ chess," Frank corrected him, promptly dropping himself onto the nearest chair to watch the game. "And you have made losing at it into such a beautiful art form."

"Yeah," Manny conceded. "I suck at it. Don't deny it Frank, you _knew;_ somehow you knew I would love this game, and suck at it and-"

"Apparently I also knew you would successfully manage to lose _every_ game you ever played?" He said, smiling insinuatingly.

Manny snorted at him derisively, dismissing the argument he knew he had lost and returned to the game...which he was _also_ losing. Frank knew the mammoth well enough to know when he's stuck.

And Manny was definitely stuck.

The pachyderm's eyes darted across the board, trying to find a way out of the vice like grip he had found himself in. Yet no matter where he looked, what plan could be seen formulating in his eyes, he slowly deflated, realising there was no way out for his king. He glared at the weasel sitting opposite him, eyes full of resentment for ever putting him in such a position.

Buck sat there, smugly relaxed on his seat,

"It's yer move, mate!" Buck said, snapping Manny out of his pondering. "It isn't easy beatin' ya if you aren't gonna move."

"Don't rush me!" Manny snapped, more forcefully than he intended. Everything about him positively screamed that he wanted to win, was _desperate _to win. Just this once.

His trunk moved slowly towards the board, yet not before he shot Frank a glance that could only be described as;

_Damn you Frank!_ _Damn you for getting me into this game!_

Seeing his options collapse around him, he forced himself to make the only move he could. Begrudgingly, he moved his queen in front of his king, blocking Buck's rook.

"Ah!" Buck said, smirking. "I 'ad an inklin' you'd do that!"

"It's the only thing I _could _do," Manny replied bluntly. He cast his glance back to the board with a defeated, knowing look as to what would happen. "Just make your move."

At a snail's pace, the weasel moved his rook forward, supplanting Manny's queen.

And that was that; Manny the moody mammoth had lost. Again.

"Checkmate!" Buck said gleefully.

"I hate you," Manny said flatly, looking at Frank. "If I could go back in time and sit on you and kill you before you gave Buck the idea of carving some tree into this torture you call a game, I would."

"But Manfred dearest," Frank replied sarcastically. "How ever would you win then?"

His look alone was a paean to irritation.

"Did I mention I hate you?" He said casually. "Oh, and you missed a council meeting, by the way."

"We were busy," Diego replied. "Students to teach, ya know."

"You mean students to shoot and maul, right?" Manny retorted, letting out a little sigh. "Why is it I get council meetings and you get all the fun stuff?"

"'Cos ya love it too, if yer being 'onest," Buck replied. "Ya didn't miss much at the meetin', fellas, just a bunch'a complaints."

Both Diego and Frank turned to Manny, waiting for him to explain.

"Apparently," The mammoth began, his tone as bored as it was possible to affect. "The villages near the sea are complaining they need more housing, so I've sent Ben over to check it out - he's borrowed Ian, by the way. The farmers on the northern slopes are complaining that they are having problems with whatever, so Claire and Ellie's gone over there...oh and Keira brings word that there are rumours that the main village would like some supplies...and by bringing word, I mean volumes of paper. And by rumours, I mean fact. And by some supplies, I mean this,"

Frank wanted to shrink into a little ball as Manny placed a small mountain of paper into view. He knew every single sheet was scrawled - on _both _sides - with requests.

"There are times when I regret our decision to teach reading and writing to more than just our herd," Frank lamented. "Funnily enough, those regrets resurface about the same time as council meetings are held."

He remained slumped, not needing to see Manny's face; he could picture the smug look the mammoth wore in his mind's eye.

"Do you want to call your sister, or shall I?" He said insinuatingly.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Could you confirm for the court that your sister is, in fact, Secretary General Samantha Daniels?" Justice Johnson stated, cutting through Frank's train of thought. He shuffled in his chair, carefully avoiding the glances he was getting from Sam.

"Yes, she is," He stated.

"Thank you," She replied. "Please continue."

"With respects, your honour," He said. "The normal events of our lives - in between the adventures we seem to find ourselves in - are fairly mundane; we help out the villages, ensure they thrive and try and keep the peace, as much as can be kept."

"You mean you govern them?" She asked.

He shrugged,

"Not really," He reply. "But they normally come to us to sort out any issues they have."

"And do the population have any of their own number to represent them?"

He blinked, taken aback by the question.

"_Yes,_" Frank rebutted, trying hard to hide the offence he felt. "We are _part_ of the village council; we aren't the _whole_ council, and we certainly do _not_ lord it over them."

She nodded in satisfaction. Nothing about her stance suggested she even realised how cutting her question was. He swallowed hard, trying to let it slide.

"Very good," She said. "In which case, let us move on to the beginning of the events being investigated. Can you please beg-"

"With respects, your honour," He said cooly. "If you desire a _chronological_ rendition of the events, I will have to pass over to either Mark or Manny."

_Or even Sam, _he added mentally.

Justice Johnson nodded slowly,

"Very well."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Mark's stomach had churned when he found out he would testify the next morning_. _Staring out at the over-packed courtroom, he longed to be invisible. No matter where he looked, he saw nothing but eyes. Eventually, he fixed his gaze on the floor.

_Cheers Frank, _he thought ruefully.

"When you are ready, Lieutenant, please proceed." The judge said.

He took several deep breaths, trying as hard as he could not to panic. He wished he could speak in front of the Bredeland's Council, in front of the herd, in front of any group but several hundred annoyed, uniformed people. He took several more deep breaths, resigning himself to his situation.

"It wasn't long after the events Fra- ah- Captain Howard stated earlier, your honour," He said tentatively. "I was heading away from the village, looking for somewhere to clean up. The worst part about getting shot in training was the paint; it never seemed to want to wash out. I could scrub until I rubbed my fur off, but it would still be there-"

"What does this have to do with anything, Lieutenant?" The judge asked.

"It does, your honour," He added quickly. "I just wanted it to be clear, your honour, so that you understand how occupied I was in trying to clean up..."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Mark scrubbed, ignoring the aches and pains the actions gave him, hoping no one saw him in such a humiliating pose. Looking down, he convinced himself that the pain was fading, and scrubbed even harder.

"Ahem, excuse me sir?"

He spun round in shock, convinced he was alone. Scanning around him, he was certain of it.

"Pardon me, sir," The voice said. "But I am up here."

Craning his neck, it took him more than a few glances to finally spot the bird, perched on a branch above him, staring back at him with curiosity. The bird bowed, much to his bemusement,

"Greetings," The bird said. "I was wondering if you could help me; is this the Val do Resto?"

"The what?" Mark replied.

"The Val do-"

"I heard you the first time," Mark interjected. "Saying it twice won't make me understand."

"Apologies," The bird replied, bowing courteously. "I have not been so far beyond our borders before; I shouldn't have expected for our terms to be understood in the Ademais."

_Borders? _Mark sat up, looking up at the bird in puzzlement.

"Who are you looking for?" He asked.

"The Victors of Halstead Pass," The bird replied. "Do you know if they reside here?"

He raised an eyebrow at the title; they had been called many things over the years until the storytellers had had all seemingly finally settled on the Guardians. He hadn't heard his herd be called the Victors for almost a decade. He studied the bird with curiosity, intrigued as to where he could have come from.

"They reside here," Mark stated cautiously. "Why do you want to see them?"

The bird took a deep breath, puffed itself up, and spoke so quickly and fluently that Mark had difficulty keeping up,

"I bear a message from the most honoured William, Regent of the Bredelands and leader of the Council of Elders, for the persons known in our dioceses by the appellation of 'The Victors of Halstead Pass' whom, I have been lead to presume, reside within this valley,"

The bird paused a moment, studying the sabre. "Would you be so kind, good fellow, as to direct me to these persons?"

After letting the sentence sink in a little, Mark felt _very _awkward. Though covered in paint and half drenched, he belatedly tried to make myself look imposing.

He knew, from the look in the bird's eye, that it didn't work.

"You're speaking with one," He replied.

This seemingly impressed the messenger even less.

"I'm sure," The bird replied politely, yet Mark could hear the condescension in his voice. "Now, if you please, could you direct me towards where they would be?"

Hoping it would reclaim some of his lost standing in the eyes of the bird, he did more than he was asked and yanked the radio from its holster on his waist,

"Mark to all herd members," He said firmly, eyes fixed on the bird's. "We've got a visitor."

_"Yeah, and?" _Manny retorted. _"We get visitors all the time, kid!"_

He couldn't resist smiling as the flash of shock and realisation dawned on the bird's face.

"This one's different," He replied. "He says he comes from the Bredelands, at the request of some Regent and a Council."

_"You _what_?" _Manny spluttered back.

_"Did you just say the Bredelands?" _Claire's voice quizzed.

_"Sure sounded like that," _Ellie's voice chimed in.

"I'm taking him to the homestead," Mark said, cutting short the herd's commentary. "Meet us there in twenty minutes."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

It felt like an eternity before everyone was finally together. Yet, slowly but surely, the herd began to arrive. To Mark's surprise, Manny was late. He shot a quizzical look at Diego, sat next him. The sabre merely shrugged.

"Manny's _never _late," Mark whispered. "What gives?"

"He has a hormonal imbalance," Diego replied quietly. "Some things make him go a bit stra-"

"All right," Manny said gruffly, studying the bird keenly as he dropped himself into an empty spot. "We're here, we're listening, so spit it out."

Mark winced at the distinctly cold greeting. He felt sorry for the little bird, seeing as he was surrounded by twelve utterly unfamiliar people, all of them staring at him intently. He noted, though, that the messenger bore it well; he didn't seem at all fazed.

"Very well then," He murmured as he cleared his throat.

"To the members of the association known in tale and song as 'the Victors of Halstead Pass', from William - Regent, Theodora - Chancellor, and the Council of Elders of all eighty nine dioceses of the Bredelands, greetings. We have recently taken captive a person of whom we have been counselled to enquire with you about. Therefore, if it pleases yourselves, you are cordially invited to meet with the Regent and Chancellor about the person in question. Please refer your answer with the messenger we have sent you and, if you can, send also an estimation of how long it will be before you can reach our borders, so that we may arrange an appropriate reception. Farewell."

The herd remained motionless, staring in stupefaction at the bird. Mark knew everyone was thinking the same thing, and that it was the least important thing of what was said that they were thinking about. Sure enough, Sid leant over to Diego and whispered so loudly he might as well have shouted it,

"Um, did the bird just talk about himself in the third person?"

"Yeah," Diego whispered back. The bird rolled his eyes,

"It is my profession, sire," The bird shot back, tone tinged with irritation. "I am a messenger; it is required of us that we memorise the message as given us, and to relay it as given us. And what message do you have for the Regent?"

Mark blinked, surprised at the question.

"Wait, what?" He said. "You expect us to just drop what we are doing at a moment's notice? Why are you _that _sure we'll even come?"

His question was drowned out in the din of a torrent of other questions;

"Who's the prisoner?"

"You were _counselled_? By who?"

"One question at a time, if you will!" The bird snapped in exasperation, silencing all of us. "To the first, the prisoner is a human-"

"_What?_" Frank gasped.

"To the second," The bird continued. "We consulted Breda, who directed us onto this course."

"_Who_?" Ellie said.

The messenger's expression shifted from annoyance to confusion,

"Surely you know who Breda is?" He asked. "Being a mammoth you must hark from the Bredelands, surely?"

True to form, Ellie merely shrugged and smiled,

"My possum parents must have missed that part of my heritage out when raising me," She replied. "So who is Breda?"

"She is our Counsellor and our Guide," The bird stated. "She has been with us since she called the First Regents in days immemorial."

Frank stared incredulously,

"Seriously?" He replied derisively. "You're asking for our help because some mythical goddess sent you lightning and entrails?"

"No," The bird replied forcefully. "We came to you because she personally _spoke_ with our Regent. And she is _not_ our goddess_, _nor is she mythical_; _she is simply our guide."

Mercifully, Frank snorted, sat back, and said nothing else. Mark looked to Manny, pleading with his eyes to break the silence that now hung over them.

"Manny?" He said. "Still here?"

Manny utterly ignored him, still staring at the bird. To Mark's surprise, it wasn't surprise or incredulity or any other response the herd had shown; the mammoth looked distinctly shocked.

"William?" Manny said slowly. "As in William, the son of Abelard?"

Something changed in the bird that Mark couldn't place, because suddenly he was studying Manny intensely.

"Correct," He murmured slowly. "And whose son are you, sire?"

"Ah...Clovis." Manny answered ambivalently.

The shock seemed to surge through the messenger so suddenly; Mark reckoned he had to be having a heart attack,

"WHAT!" The messenger exclaimed. "But but-b-b-b-that cannot be! The son of Clovis is dead!"

"Surprise!" Manny replied, grinning sarcastically.

The bird took several deep breaths, and then a few more, slowly calming down. Once more collected, the messenger stared cautiously at Manny.

"So you really are Manfred?" He quizzed. "Manfred, the son of Clovis?"

Everyone sat up; the bird hadn't been told any of their names - thanks to Manny's brusque entry - yet he seemed to know Manny's well enough. Every set of eyes rested on the mammoth, both his face and the herd's expressions telling two sides; the herd wanted to know how a messenger knew his name so well, Manny's expression said he didn't want to talk about it. Brow furrowed, Manny let out a long sigh,

"Thanks for that," Manny remarked at the bird. "Now fly home, and tell Will that we're setting out tomorrow, and should be at Porcupine Gorge in a week...oh, and," He added, pausing the bird in mid flap. "Let him know I'm ok, ok?"

The messenger bowed his head in acknowledgement, looked to the sky, and disappeared quickly, leaving Manny squirming as the centre of attention.

"So," Diego said. "You look sprightly for a dead guy."

"Care to explain?" Frank added.

Manny glared at all of them as he turned to leave,

"No." He grunted. "Now pack your bags and get ready; we're leaving at first light."

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

**End of Chapter 2**

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

**What did you think? Let me know my clicking that beautiful collection of words below, the ones with the word 'review' in it. Constructive criticism always welcome (although i stress that constructive criticism is **_**constructive**_**).**

**Hopefully I won't keep you all waiting for too long for chapter 3! With luck, there should be another chapter up somewhere in early march.**

**Either way, till chapter 3, adios!**


	3. Trouble in Paradise

**Hello everyone!**

**Cheers for reading and, for those who did, thank you for the reviews! It's good to know that people are still interested in this story, even now that it is physically here rather than just an idea. As it is so early in the story, I don't have much else to say...**

**So, without further ado-**

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

Stepping through the portal, Manny took a deep breath of cool, crisp air. He smiled at the surroundings he had found himself back in, comforted by the sight of his homestead, nestled on its hill, overlooking the thronging villages of the valley.

Even though he had spent just a day in London, it felt like he hadn't seen the valley in weeks.

"Ah, home," He murmured to himself. He glanced around at Frank, seeing a similar contented expression on his face.

"Are you up for a game of chess?"

Frank shook his head slightly, smiling,

"I'd only beat you," He replied breezily. "And besides, Sam only let us have a break from the proceedings because we groaned the most."

"Yeah, about that," Manny said as they slowly made their way to the homestead. "Why are we the only ones who came back? What gives?"

The curious look Frank shot him told him all he needed to know.

"Ah," He said.

"Yeah," Frank agreed. "We're the only ones who don't actually _like_ being there."

Back at the homestead, Manny noted once more how rapidly Frank discarded his jacket, hat and tie in record time before he dropped himself into a nearby seat. Intrigued, he wanted to ask about it, but as soon as he opened his mouth a messenger bird arrived.

"Oh come _on. _What is it _now,_ Noa?" Manny groaned at the bird before it had even managed to perch.

"The Council has been waiting for you to return," The bird replied, panting. "They need you there immediately!"

"We've been gone less than an hour," Frank stated calmly after checking the clock on the wall. "What crisis could have possibly arisen in that time?"

Manny blinked, suddenly remembering how little time had truly passed. He shot a rueful glance at the sky, seating himself as quickly as he could. He knew, one way or another, Noa would convince them to move shortly; all the more reason for him to enjoy sitting down as much as he could.

"We're meshing two separate societies together," Noa replied. "I personally am surprised we are only having _one _crisis per hour."

Frank looked up deadpan at the bird,

"And what a joy it is to behold that two august and intelligent societies are doing so well at resolving their differences," He said flatly. "It would be such a shame if you had to call on outside forces to help."

"In all earnest, sire, at the moment one of the biggest things holding the two parties together _is _the outside force," Noa retorted. "The Council needs the Guardians to help them. This request comes from _both _Regents."

"Well, at least they can agree on _something,_" Frank replied, sharing a smile with Manny. "I'd tell you to let the Council know we're coming...except we're going to get there before you even leave the Valley."

Noa nodded slightly, his motions suddenly apprehensive,

"About that, sire," The bird murmured. "Is there any chance of a...what did you people call it...a 'lift'?"

Manny chuckled, giving the bird a warm smile,

"I guess we can," He replied playfully. "Just this once."

Both men waited for as long as possible before getting back up. Finally up, though, Frank re-clasped his sword to his belt, donned his jacket, and equipped himself with his rifle as fast - if not faster - than he shed his previous garments. Manny raised his eyebrows at the sight.

"Outta interest, what's with the hurry?" He quizzed.

"No hurry, just want to get this out of the way," Frank replied hastily, intentionally slowing his fast stride. "You know, I have another theory why no one else came back with us."

Manny slowed, coming to a stop beside Ian. He knew Frank was changing subject. He let out a small chuckle, realising how true it was that the man would never answer a question _willingly._

"Oh yeah?"

Frank shot him a smirk as he sat down in the driver's seat.

"I think we were both the ones too stupid to realise we'd be dealing with this...whatever _this_ is... if we returned."

Trunk firmly placed on the truck, Manny couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity.

"Come on, why would the others do that to us?" He said.

Frank shot him a dull stare.

"Are you _serious?" _

He gave the human no answer.

"All right," Frank said. "Ian, get us to the senate."

"_Powering up,"_ Ian stated. _"Temporal engines activating. Hold on everyone!"_

At the very last moment, Manny remembered to clamp his eyes shut.

Even through his eyelids, he still felt blinded.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Do you think they realised how dumb they are yet?"

Ellie smiled at Claire, taking in a deep breath as she soaked up the atmosphere of Trafalgar Square. Everywhere she looked she saw masses of people going about their lives. Closing her eyes, she could hear almost everything; the cars, the laughter, the thronging of life around her.

A contented sigh drifted out of her, overjoyed to finally see the future with her own two eyes; staring at it from a distance through glass had never quite satisfied her.

"Probably," Ellie replied, her smile growing wider. "They aren't the sharpest rocks in the cave."

Claire chuckled, taking a swig from her wine glass.

"You can say that again!"

"To idiot husbands," Ellie said, raising her glass. "Long may they take the flak of boring meetings for us."

"Hear hear," Claire said, chinking her glass and drinking. She paused, eyes peering in the distance. A knowing smile crept over her face, shooting a wink in Ellie's direction. "Speaking of the devil..."

It took Ellie a few moments to understand before she turned to look. On seeing their bored, frustrated faces, she pondered whether she should do the decent thing and looked at least a _little _sorrowful for what they did...or laugh.

_Choices, choices..._

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Being greeted by the cackling laughter of Ellie and Claire didn't help Frank's mood.

"Yeah yeah, laugh at us at your peril," He said flatly, pulling himself up a chair. "Next time I'll be sure to insist you two go."

"That good, huh?" Ellie replied, still laughing. "What did they want this time?"

Manny practically dropped to the floor, shaking the table.

"Some stupid human honour thing," Manny stated huffily. "Those people are meant to be adults! _Leaders_! How can't they decide on something like that?"

"Sure, and you've _never _needed someone to help you out with stupid little things," Ellie replied. "Give them a break! It's not everyday that something like this happens."

"_Leaders!_" Manny repeated emphatically. "People who are supposed to know better!"

"_Men,_" Claire snorted, her smile still lodged on her face. "Always complaining."

Frank levelled a flat, annoyed stare at his wife,

"Excuse me, _elder, _for moaning about something _your _council couldn't cope with."

To his annoyance, her smile did not budge,

"Not an elder yet, _dear_," She replied. "Our little valley hasn't voted on their representative yet. An elder _temporarius_ doth not an elder make."

He sighed, quickly scanning around him to find a way out of the conversation he knew he'd lose. Looking around him, he figured he could talk about the weather, the busyness of Trafalgar Square, how different it looked...

_Wait._

He turned back, glancing at Ellie and Claire quizzically.

"Where's everyone else?"

"Tribunal I think," Ellie replied. "Why?"

Frank shot a surprised look at Manny.

"Aren't we supposed to be there?" He said cautiously.

"Na-ah," Ellie replied. "Only the people testifying need to be, so Sam says."

"Who's testifying?" Manny asked.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"And what did you proceed to do then, Lieutenant?" Justice Johnson asked.

Mark shrugged slightly; keen to avoid both the mass of eyes staring at him and the panic at knowing the herd wasn't present with him in the courtroom. He took several deep breaths, picturing in his mind that the judge was the only one in the room.

"We did exactly as Manny said we would; we packed up Ian-"

"Ian?" The judge quizzed. "You have mentioned Ian before, Lieutenant. Who is he?"

"That's...ah...it's the name of our _truck_, your honour," Mark replied sheepishly. "Sa- ah, the secretary general - says it stands for Integrated Automated Network...we reckoned Ian was a catchier name."

"I see," She said dryly. "And what did you proceed to do then?"

Seated in the witness stand, he couldn't avoid shifting uncomfortably under the weight of so many gazes. He could already feel his fur becoming damp with sweat as he glanced up at the judge nervously, swallowing hard,

"We got ourselves ready, headed out and made our way to Porcupine Gorge."

"Porcupine Gorge?" The judge repeated. "Could you describe the location, and why you were headed there, if you will."

He took a deep breath,

"Porcupine Gorge is just that; a gorge. It's a narrow passageway, surrounded by cliffs and sharp rocky...things. Anyways, it is _also _the southern border of the Bredelands and, as I have _already_ said, where we said we'd meet them..."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

They stood on the plains ahead of the gorge, staring at the mass of rock and ice in the distance. Looking over the others, Mark could sense the tension underlying the silence. Peering into the distance, he could spot enough to confuse him,

"I don't understand," He said. "Their Regent invited us."

"This doesn't look particularly inviting," Frank remarked, scanning the gorge sternly. Slowly, he pointed at several points on the cliffs. "You see that?"

"Yeah," Diego replied, staring at the same points. "Couple dozen sabres, a few mammoths, and what looks like a _lot _of smaller animals...at _least_."

He felt a lump in his throat as he followed Frank's finger, realising how correct Diego was; Mark could count very nearly a _hundred _animals on the cliffs, all of them in the best places to crush them with rocks.

_Well that's just great, _he thought to himself.

"M-maybe they're the welcome party?" Sid stammered hopefully. Manny shook his head,

"Nah," He replied gruffly, jerking his trunk at the gorge itself. "_That's _the welcome party...Mark's right, something's not right here."

"Why invite us if they're gonna barricade the entrance?" Mark asked.

"Just because their goddess told them to look us up doesn't mean they trust us," Ellie said. "We're just a story to them right now; for all they know, _we're _the ones that are dangerous."

"I guess," Sid admitted, his eyes still nervously scanning the cliffs. "What now?"

"Well, if we can see them, they can see us," Mark stated. "So we can't really run away now."

The weight of Frank's stare at him was almost tangible,

"When have we _ever_ run away?" Frank retorted.

"Ooh!" Sid piped up. "There were those times when-"

"_Besides those_, when have we _ever_ run away?" Frank repeated emphatically.

At Frank's statement, the tension lifted a little, allowing Mark a small smile. Bit by bit, the herd began to piece together a plan, discussing options, ideas, problems. As Mark listened, his smile grew a little more.

"Right, so here's what we're gonna do," Manny said, effectively ending the conversation. "Ellie and me on the flanks with Diego and Mark; one sabre and one mammoth on either side. Frank and Peaches will be in the middle. Everyone else in Ian, up front, with as many guns as you can make visible."

The mammoth looked around one last time, just to be sure everyone understood and - more to the point - wasn't going to argue.

"Any problems?"

Frank smiled faintly,

"Nope," He said. "Because it's the same plan we pretty much _always _use."

"Hasn't failed us yet." Manny replied cheerfully.

"But what about-" Sid attempted.

"Shut up Sid." Everyone said at once, virtually in unison.

Thus they set off, slowly, towards the gorge in silence. Mark stuck beside Manny on the right flank, steeling himself for any and every eventuality that could come their way. He was so focussed on what they could be facing; he almost jumped when his radio spluttered to life.

"_Anyone else getting deja vu_?" Frank remarked.

He shared a smile with Manny,

"I was wondering how long we'd go before someone brought that up," Manny murmured at the sabre as he drew out his own radio. "Roger that, Frank! At least there's no Te-"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Your Honour!" Sam barked, jumping to her feet, cutting Mark off mid-sentence. "The events Lieutenant Ericsson is about to detail are still classified and have no bearing on the case at hand. Please can the lieutenant desist from detailing them, and any mention so far of them be struck from the record."

The judge and Sam held a brief, glowering gaze, before she finally relented,

"Very well, Secretary General," Justice Johnson murmured, switching her gaze back to Mark. "Could you proceed without mentioning any further _classified_ information, lieutenant?"

He shot a confused glance at Sam;

_Our adventure's classified? _He thought at her, _why?_

"Yeah, sure He- ah, your honour," He replied. "Where was I..."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

For Mark, the first impression of the gorge - on closer inspection - was eyes; hundreds of eyes, staring at them from seemingly everywhere. He looked up and saw scowling eyes, he looked ahead and saw blankly staring eyes, he turned to look beside him and saw Manny's increasingly wary eyes, darting about as much as his were.

Knowing the mammoth - the largest member of their herd - was as nervous as he was did not put the sabre at ease.

"I really don't like the look of this," Manny murmured into his radio. "Everyone stick close together, and keep an eye out."

Gaze turned forward, Mark thought the welcoming party looked anything but. It caught him by surprise how many species stood there, scowling as they waited for the herd to arrive. Only the sloth in the centre seemed to attempt anything like a smile, raising his hand in greeting as they got near enough to hear him.

"Welcome to the Bredelands," The sloth called out. His smile faded as he studied them keenly.

Only then did Mark realise just how it must have looked; all of their various weapons were visibly on show, just as if they were clearly in a defensive arrangement.

_No wonder the guards look so tense, _he noted.

"Why do you come armed?" The sloth enquired

Mark saw Frank shoot a significant glance in Manny and Diego's direction, knowing exactly what the human was thinking;

_The sloth recognised our rifles and pistols._

Looking around at the unfriendliness of virtually every face staring at them, it seemed like a good idea to the sabre to let it slide. He let out a sigh in relief when Manny finally shrugged,

"We had a bad experience here a while back," Manny remarked. "All those guards up there didn't exactly make us feel welcome."

The sloth's face seemed to redden. He whispered something hastily to a sabre beside him and stood grimacing as the sabre sprinted off.

"My sincerest apologies, we were not aware of this," He said almost at the same time as the guards above us disappeared from view. "We meant no offence."

"None's taken," Frank said. "And to whom do we have the pleasure of speaking?"

Mark would be the first to admit he had little experience with sloths; in fact, as far as he can recall, the only experience of sloths he had had up till then had been - well - _Sid._ Yet, in the space of a few, short seconds, he realised just how graceful sloths _could _be as the sloth before them bowed effortlessly to the floor, arms outstretched.

"I am Jacob, Advocate and servant of the Council and peoples of the Bredelands, at your service," The sloth said, straightening himself out. "And I must apologise once more, but the Regent has requested to see you as soon as is possible."

"Then why isn't he meeting us here?" Ellie asked.

The sloth - _Jacob, _Mark corrected himself - baulked at the suggestion.

"The leader of three _million_ people cannot just drop what he is doing and travel to the furthermost border of our realms!" Jacob replied tersely. "Important as this may be, he could not leave Senweca."

"Senwha?" Frank said.

"It's the Council's meeting place," Manny replied quickly. Almost as suddenly a flash of doubt crossed his eyes. "Right?"

"Correct, sire," The sloth replied, smiling. "My apologies, but we must depart; it is a fortnight's journey from here to Senweca, I'm afraid."

"For you, maybe," Frank replied, sporting the most smug smile imaginable. "Oh Ian! Have you got a map of the region?"

Every member of the welcome party took a nervous step back as Ian replied, informing Frank that he did. It took them a while to get Jacob even _near_ to the truck, let alone _into_ it to show him the map. Eventually, in between the sloth's bouts about how unnatural such a thing was, he gave up the information they needed, eliciting a whistle from Frank,

"No wonder it's a fortnight's journey," He said. "It looks like it's about two hundred miles east of the meltdown valley."

"If I may, sire," Jacob ventured cautiously. "How do you plan on getting there?"

Frank smirked mischievously,

"If you could stand about twenty feet away, we'll show you." He said.

Taking his remarked as their cue to exit, the herd dutifully moved closer to Ian as the people about them stepped back.

"Ian," Frank said. "You know what to do."

The last glimpse Mark caught before clamping his eyes shut was the looks of fear in everyone watching them, Jacob included. After the inevitable flash of light, he opened his eyes, surprised to see an even larger group staring at them with shocked, fearful faces. Complete and utter silence greeted the herd, who remained as still as the crowd.

"I keep forgetting how odd this must look to people outside our valley," Manny remarked quietly, studying the frightened gazes aimed their way.

The fearful looks seemed lost on Frank, who gingerly walked up to a bunch of cowering people, smiling,

"Morning!" He said. "Are we in Senweca?"

They answered by running off, screaming at the top of their lungs. Unfazed, the human turned to the next group, and the next, yet seemed to get this response from everyone who saw them arrive. Eventually, Frank glanced back, looking distinctly rattled,

"What the hell's going on here?" He asked. "Why is everyone reacting like they've seen a ghost?"

Manny flatly stared at him,

"_Really?_ We appear out of thin air in a place that's never even heard of - let alone _seen_ time travel - and you think they _overreacted?_"

Before Frank could reply a low, menacing trumpet could be heard on the wind. Within seconds, noises and shouts suddenly appeared all around them. Scanning about himself in panic, Mark's eyes widened,

"We've got a mob on our hands!" The sabre shouted.

Almost instinctively, the herd grouped together once more, facing outwards, towards the mob that had swiftly surrounded them. Mark counted hundreds, if not thousands, of animals of every shape, colour and hue circling them, all of them sporting angry, fearful expressions.

"GET BACK!" Frank yelled, firing several shots into the dirt in front of him. "GET BACK, ALL OF YOU!"

The mob seemed to abate a little, even as the fear-driven baying for the herd's blood increased. Slowly, no matter how many shots they fired into the ground, the gap between themselves and the mob lessened. Steeled to fight, Mark prepared himself, even though he knew it would be hopeless.

"So much for the Guardians," He said, turning to Manny. "What do we do?"

The mammoth scanned the horde anxiously, his gaze flickering to Peaches, who stood firm beside Ellie.

"I-" He mustered. "I don't know."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"We found out later that it wasn't because we appeared out of thin air that they wanted to kill us," Mark explained to an alert, silent courtroom. "It was _who _appeared out of thin air."

"Would you care to explain, Lieutenant?" Justice Johnson quizzed.

Mark swallowed, unsure how he could phrase it without casting the ancestors of at least half the room sound intolerant.

"Lieutenant?" The judge said again.

"It was, ah, Frank," Mark said haltingly. "And Claire, and Ben...they wanted to kill the _humans _who had appeared amongst them."

The hum of whispering that arose was quickly silenced by the judge.

"Why would this be the case, Lieutenant?" She said.

Mark shrugged slightly, wincing inside for making such a stupid motion.

"The reasons, Your Honour, will become clearer later on," He replied. "It's probably for the best I don't explain it now; I'd be here all day."

_Please don't make me explain it now, _he mentally begged the judge, _I don't want to be here all day._

"Very well. Could you explain to us, then, how it is you managed to escape such a predicament?" She asked, allowing a slight smile to reach her lips. "I'm presuming you escaped; you seem fairly alive to me, Lieutenant."

Mark swallowed, only to discover his throat had gone dry,

"Well, we-"

"Your Honour!"

The sabre's eyes shot up, staring at the new arrival at the back of the courtroom. Manny walked in slowly, garnering looks and excited chatter with every motion. He came to a stop in front of the judge's dais, levelling a calm stare at her,

"I feel I should be the one explaining this part, Your Honour, not Mark."

Justice Johnson set about silencing the court before studying Manny. She clasped her hands together, resting her chin upon them; not once did her eyes leave the pachyderm's.

"Sergeant Hendricks," The judge said flatly. "This is highly unorthodox and, were this any _sane_ proceeding, it would not be stood for," To everyone's surprise, a slight smile crept onto her face. "All things being as they are, however, this isn't a sane proceeding by anyone's standard. Could you take the witness stand please, Sergeant."

He let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding in, flushed with relief at the news. Passing by Manny, he slowed a little, looked up gratefully at the pachyderm,

"Thank you," He said. "Thank you so much-"

"No problem kid," He cut in quietly. He watched the mammoth quickly glance up at the balcony, pause in confusion, and stare back at him with inquisitive eyes.

"Where's the others?" He asked.

The sabre shrugged,

"How should I know?"

"Sergeant, if you please, can you take the witness stand _speedily._" The judge stated.

Manny deflated a little, muttering under his breath,

"Damn...all right, I need you to find them for me. Call Claire, Ellie and Frank to help you."

Mark baulked, but his oncoming arguments were cut swiftly short by a swift gesture of Manny's trunk.

"No ifs, no buts, just find them!"

He pawed at the floor in annoyance, begrudging his herd members for their sudden disappearance. Glancing up, he realised the mammoth had already sat down, ending his chance to refuse the request.

With no need to be in the courtroom, he left as quickly as he could, knowing his day had, probably, only just begun.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

In the space of just two days, Manny had already developed a strong dislike for the courtroom. He hated the fact their lives were prised open for others to dissect, discuss and question. He hated the fact that they had to sit there for hours on end. Yet both points were dwarfed in comparison to how much he hated the fact they had no choice on the matter; Sam had made it more than clear to them that the Commission would frown on sending them further supplies if they hadn't agreed.

He knew it was blackmail; he just hoped Sam wasn't the source of it.

Watching the sabre disappear as quickly as he could, Manny managed a slight smile. He envied, and rued, Mark's predicament; freed though he was from the confines of the courtroom, he did not envy the sabre's task of finding four errant herd members in a city of thirty million people. Realising the attention of everyone present was focussed on himself, he cleared his throat, smiled and looked up at the judge,

"So, where did Mark leave off, your honour?" He asked.

"You had just..._appeared_...in what you believed was 'Senweca', only to be surrounded by - and I quote - 'a mob baying for our blood'."

_Never a dull moment, _he reflected, smiling to himself.

"Ok, so we were trapped, unsure of how we could get out, and the mob was closing in on us," Manny began. "Everyone who could use a rifle had one pointed out and, if it went on for any longer, there would have been a lot of... _unpleasantness_. But then we heard something, cutting over the noise of the shouting and screaming..."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Even the very noise of the mob seemed to freeze in midair at the sound. Manny craned his neck, listening intently. Dozens of the species may have greeted them at the gorge, but hearing it still caught him by surprise,

"That's a sabre!" He exclaimed.

With every successive roar, the mob's fury dulled, its confidence dented by the sheer noise. The mammoth watched, mouth agape, as the disembodied roar succeeded where threats of gunfire did not; with just four ear piercing roars, he found himself staring at a polite, subdued mass of people.

All the same, he held his stance, his decades of experience informing him that they were still _technically _in danger.

In the corners of his eyes, however, he could see Diego, Frank and all the others straighten out.

"What...just happened?" Frank quizzed.

Another roar pierced the air. The crowd of people parted wordlessly, revealing a pack of sabres surrounding a mammoth. Manny stared in disbelief, sharing a look of shocked surprise with Diego,

"Is that...is that _Max?" _Diego quizzed.

"Sure looks like it," Manny remarked, eyes returning to the sabre. "And I recognise his pack too."

The gentle hum of whispering amongst the herd was, without warning, utterly drowned out,

"Make way for the Regent!" Max bellowed, eyes sternly scanning the crowds. "And do not harm our guests!"

The sabre's newfound eloquence elicited a raised eyebrow from the mammoth. The pack came to a halt twenty paces ahead of them. When he finally managed to catch Max's eye, he realised he still had his jaw slack, eyebrows raised, and look of disbelief seemingly frozen onto his face. The sabre grinned, taking a sweeping view of all of them,

"Mornin' guys," He said in the accent Manny remembered. "You guys sure know how to make an entrance!"

"Max?" Frank gasped. "What the...how the...where the..."

The sabre chuckled a little, even as he gestured to keep their voices down,

"Let the Regent speak first, then we'll talk." He said.

Manny blinked, suddenly realising the obvious thing he was missing. Eyes darting up, he instinctively took in a sharp breath of air at the sight. The mammoth looked older than he did, his fur - evidently a light shade of brown - had begun to turn to grey. He managed to get a quick glimpse of the mammoth's face as the pachyderm scanned the area calmly. Granted, he noticed a few wrinkles around his face, but he was certain of who he was staring at.

"William..." He murmured to himself, as if only then realising. William didn't pay him heed immediately, his attention still fixed on the crowds around him.

"Brothers and sisters!" William shouted in almost every direction. "Since the days immemorial, we have prided ourselves in our hospitality! Only in the Dark Times was blood ever shed coldly in these realms, yet here I stand, having witnessed your attempts to do just that!"

He sported the look of such disappointment, he almost felt as if he was witnessing a father rebuke a son. Quickly glancing at the crowd, he concluded they must have felt the same way.

"Behold these newcomers," William continued, pointing his trunk firmly - to Manny's surprise - at himself. "And look again, for they are not all strangers to us. Or did you not recognise the son of Clovis? Surely time has not dulled your memory of the son of one of our greatest leaders!"

The subdued crowd suddenly animated themselves. The herd's weapon's jerked up briefly, but quickly lowered when they realised that the emotion now aimed at them was not murderous hate, but awe. Over the growing din of excitement, William finally locked eyes with Manny, giving him a warm smile.

"And even the strangers are not strangers," William continued, now grinning. "Brothers and sisters, the Victors of Halstead Pass stand amongst us!"

The image of the crowd baying for their blood lingered in the back of Manny's mind, providing an odd juxtaposition to the scenes of cheering, celebrating, and rejoicing now surrounding them. Hordes of people crammed about them, reaching out to touch them. Only by the concerted efforts of Max and his pack were they accorded even breathing room. Distracted by the thronging masses, Manny was taken aback as a trunk wrapped around his neck and a weight suddenly appeared on his shoulder. It took him a few moments to realise it was William who had embraced him,

"Welcome back, Manny," William said quietly. "It's been far too long."

Manny smiled, feeling tears of joy dampen the fur around his eyes, as he returned the hug. As the two men unclasped, Manny quickly wiped down his face, pointedly ignoring the shocked expression of his herd members. He laughed heartily, playfully punching the Regent on the shoulder,

"Look at you," He exclaimed. "I'm gone for a few years and you go on and become Regent!" His smile grew warmer. "Abelard - and dad - would have been proud."

William's smile remained sincere, but Manny spotted the brief flicker of..._something..._in his eyes.

"I hope so," He said earnestly. His smile began to fade. "I wish we could have reunited in happier times."

Manny blinked, flickering between the older mammoth and the rejoicing crowds. Pondering it briefly, his eyes widened a little as realisation hit him like a brick in the face,

"The guards, the tense atmosphere...even their trying to kill us," He murmured to himself. He looked up at William intently. "What's going on, Will? Why did you bring us here?"

William sighed, suddenly looking much older than he had just a moment before,

"We have a situation on our hands," He said. "One the Council does not feel it can handle...and one which, if your reputation is correct, you may be able to help with."

"If we can help, I'm all for it," Manny replied. "What's up?"

The greying mammoth briefly scanned their surroundings, shaking his head slightly after he had,

"Not here," He said. "All of you must come with me; it is better that I _show _you than just telling you."

"Come on," Manny replied, laughing slightly. "Is it really that bad?"

William's look immediately stopped him, mid laugh.

"Possibly," He replied quietly. He lunged forward, wrapping Manny once more in a hug. Manny knew this one, however, was not out of friendship;

_He doesn't want anyone to hear this, _he noted with a pang of dread.

"Our lands are on the brink," William said. Manny blinked, surprised at the use of their more recent title. "Unless you can help us resolve this situation, the Bredelands will fall and everyone you see here will probably be dead."

Surrounded by laughter, joy and happiness, Manny stood there, stunned beyond words.

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

**End of Chapter 3**

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

**What do you think? Anything you want me to explore? If it fits in with the story I'm telling, I'll try and make it work! Anything you think I need to tweak? Constructive criticism is always appreciated! Want to let me know about something else? Provided it's not a flame, any review is welcome!**

**If any of the above, how about clicking on the wonderful button below?**

**Look forward to hearing from all of you!**

**Till chapter 4, peace out**


	4. The Way of Things

**Hello everyone!**

**First off, my apologies for this chapter taking a while; it has actually been giving me a lot of grief! I think this chapter has just rammed home for me just how difficult it's going to be balancing what are - if I'm honest - two very different stories intertwined as one. I hope this isn't too unbalanced; will be toying with how much of each storyline to put into a chapter from now on until something works! Apologies also for the length, as I genuinely don't think I can cut this in half! I hope, however, the little revelation at the end will make it worth it!**

**Thank you to those of you who reviewed! It is greatly appreciated no matter how long, short, complex or simple they are; just there being there is always a good thing to know :)**

**So anyways, for fear of making this longer than it needs to be, without any further ado...**

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

Of all the things Frank expected to be doing on a Friday night in London, _none _of them included finding missing herd members. Wending his way through Glasshouse Street, he finally caught a glimpse of Ellie through the crowds. Crossing the road - and narrowly missing several black taxis - he finally saw Claire and Mark beside her. Jostling for the space to breathe, let alone move, his hope that Piccadilly Circus would be slightly empty was conclusively dashed. Even mentioning it provoked a disparaging laugh from Claire,

"You really don't remember London that well, do you?" She remarked.

"I remember London all right," He retorted. "I just remember it under the Directorate rather than as a free city in a free country!"

She cocked her head,

"It wasn't all that diff-"

"Timeline comparisons can wait, guys!" Ellie interjected. "We've searched all around this area, and couldn't find them _anywhere_."

Frank, able to breathe once more, nodded slowly,

"Right, then we'll have to search a little harder, then," He murmured. "Has anyone checked Soho? Leicester Squa-"

"We've checked them already," Mark replied. "They weren't there."

"When did we last see them?" Claire asked.

"I las-" Ellie began, briefly interrupted as a group of tourists cut straight through them. She glared after them, took a deep breath, and continued. "I last saw them at the courtroom place."

Frank straightened out, looking intently at Ellie.

"You last saw them at the _Shard_?"

His frustration transformed into amusement as they all nodded. He rubbed his face, stifling the urge to laugh,

"Is there any reason we've notchecked the pubs _around _the Shard?"

It took several moments - and _another _pack of partygoers bustling through them - for the realisation to sink in.

"Damn." Claire grunted.

"Damn." Ellie and Mark agreed.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"I've found them!"

Frank blinked at Ellie's triumphant declaration; having just crossed London Bridge, they hadn't even had the chance to begin searching. All the same, Ellie kept repeating herself, pointing firmly at a nearby pub. The pub struck Frank as elegant; from its Victorian style to its curtained windows, the place almost reeked of old England. Even with his casual observations, he couldn't see them. But, just as he turned to keep walking, he caught the blurred, dim sight of a sloth and a weasel, sitting at the bar. He raised an eyebrow,

"How on _earth_ did you manage to see that?" He remarked.

"Because I am _that _good," She replied with a wink. "These eyes aren't here to just look pretty, ya know."

Frank smirked, attention once more returned to the window. Moving closer to the door, he caught a clear glimpse of the bunch, his heart fluttering as he realised they were drinking.

_Heavily._

"Damn," He grumbled, rummaging through his pockets. "Does anyone have any cash?"

"I do," Claire offered, eyes betraying a hint of confusion.

"Do _they _have any cash?" Frank said, gesturing towards the sodden herd members.

The herd remained silent for a moment.

"Ah," Ellie said. "That could be a problem."

"Ya _think_?" Frank retorted. He rubbed his eyes in agitation, suddenly realising a bar brawl may be in his future. "Hopefully, as they're drinking with no money, they are on a tab, which gives us-"

"A tab?" Ellie quizzed.

"Yes, a _tab,_" Frank replied. "As in the 'paying at the end rather than every drink' kind of thing. And, assuming the bar closes at eleven, we have-"

He checked his watch, allowing himself a brief smile. "At least five hours before it needs to get paid."

"And what do you expect us to do about it?" Ellie retorted. "We only have a handful of money here with us."

He could do nothing but stare,

"A _handful of money_?" He repeated disbelievingly. "Remind me, when all this is said and done, to teach you basic economics."

He wanted to add 'a_nd grammar to boot' _but decided against annoying someone who could crush him in an instant.

Claire raised her eyebrows,

"Well now, Frank, seeing as you claim to be good at economics, tell me how we're supposed to pay off their tab with a mighty sum of eight pounds."

_Good question. _Frank paused, mulling the question over. Eventually, he nodded,

"Go back to the Shard," He said slowly. "Let someone _we know_ know what's happened, and get some help to ensure nothing...unpleasant...happens. Oh, and money. Lots of money."

Claire cocked her head, eyes narrowing in suspicion,

"And where will you be whilst we go off to get help?" She asked pointedly.

Giving her his best - and, as he knew, his _least _convincing - grin, Frank gently took the money from her hands.

"For a drink," He replied. Almost instantly, every set of eyes began to roll.

"Hey! I need to make sure they don't leave before some money comes!" He added defensively.

"How noble of you," Claire replied dryly. "Try not to get too drunk whilst doing your good deed, Frank; if you do, I promise I will be as _loud_ as possible tomorrow."

His smile quickly faded at the threat.

"I'll...try." He said with as much sincerity as he could muster; he knew full well how it would really end.

What was worse, though, was that he knew that _she _knew it too.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Walking through the door, Frank half expected to walk into a fight. Yet - loud and bawdy though the pub was - there was no whiff of anger about the place, much less a brawl. Almost instantly, he relaxed,

"Thank God." He murmured under his breath.

Content that he wouldn't have to fight his way out of paying a tab he scanned the pub, spotted his drink-sodden friends, and sat down beside them.

The fact they didn't even realise his presence disconcerted him. With some effort, he caught the eye of a bartender through the crowds, gesturing for a pint. In the corner of his eye, he saw Buck straighten out slightly, eye slowly flickering between the bartender and his clothes. Frank cursed under his breath as he recognised the _loaned _dress military uniforms that still lingered on Buck, Sid, Crash and Eddie.

He cursed again when he saw beer stains spattering _all _of them.

"Oi Sid," The weasel said, nudging the slouched sloth. "D'ya think we shoulda gotten out of these clothes before comin' 'ere?"

"What clothes?" Sid slurred, spilling his drink down his dress uniform jacket, much to Frank's dismay. "...oh...hey Buck, d'ya think we shoulda gotten outta these clothes first?"

The weasel's eye narrowed for a moment, before he burst into a snicker.

"Yer drunk, Siddy," He remarked. "Yer...yer drunk."

Frank closed his eyes, placing his face into his hand.

"Bugger," He muttered.

"Takes one to know one," Crash replied laboriously, oblivious that Frank had even spoken.

No longer waiting for them to realise his presence, he coughed inconspicuously,

"Indeed it does. And what brings you all to the Barrowboy and Banker?"

He knew he - _finally_ - had their attention. Swivelling carefully in his seat, Buck noticed him at last. One by one, Sid, Buck, Crash and Eddie cheered.

"Frank!" Buck exclaimed. "'Ow ya doing mate?"

"Oh yes, _spiffing_ thank you," Frank replied with feigned cheer, his expression remaining stony. "I _hugely_ enjoyed running all over London looking for the four of you. On a Friday. At rush hour..."

"Yer welcome then!" Buck replied. "We'll try an' do it more ofte-"

Frank let out a heavy sigh, taking a swig from his pint.

"Brilliant," He grumbled. "You are all so drunk you can't even understand sarcasm anymore. The truth is we have been worried, rushed off our feet, and - to be honest - annoyed that you forgot to say _anything_ to us...did it not even remotely cross _any _of your minds to tell someone where you were going?"

"Hey!" Sid said, tapping Buck on the shoulder. "You know...you know, we shoulda done that! We shoulda also gotten out of these clothes...hey Buck, dya know youre still in those clo-"

"Yes, he does, Sid," Frank cut in irritably. "You've said it already. Repeatedly."

He finished his drink, ordered another one, and drank through it in silence, allowing his drunken friends to continue talking incomprehensibly amongst themselves. Surrounded though they were by the hustle and bustle of a Friday night, their little corner of the bar seemed to remain solely theirs. Several pints came and went as he sat, waiting for _something_ to happen, and silently hoping their help would come before it. Eventually Crash, Eddie and Sid - having had more than their fill of beer - drifted to sleep. More pints came and went; only now Frank sat in companionable silence with Buck. As the pub's crowd began to thin, Frank began to notice the weasel paying more and more attention to him.

"Spit it out," Buck said, breaking the silence between them.

"W-what?" Frank replied, eyeing his drink protectively.

"Ya 'ave a question," He stated, struggling in his efforts to focus. "You always 'ave a look you use when you want'a ask a question. An' you've been wearin' it for the last four pints."

Frank smiled slightly, finishing off his pint.

"I already have," He said. "It was the first one I asked...what brings you to the Barrowboy and Banker?"

Buck blinked in confusion,

"The wot?"

"The pub you've been busy draining of alcohol this evening," He replied, mentally adding _and making them a fortune_. "Why are you four here?"

Normally, Frank knew Buck would have bounced back; either a grin, or a witty remark, or a ludicrous action would have happened, and things would have lightened up_. _But the weasel slumped instead, gazing wearily into the bottom of his pint glass. Slowly, his eyes drifted onto the possums and Sid - still soundly slumbering - and back to the glass.

"It was cos of...well...Diego," The weasel replied quietly. "The way 'e was, today, really 'it us 'ard, Frank. 'e's always been one of the strongest of all of us, an' now? Ya think 'e's gonna take it well? Ya think _we_ are? Sure, losing 'is leg is 'ard, but wot about our lives afta this? 'ow are we gonna cope?"

Frank frowned slightly, unsure of what to say to comfort the weasel, because - if he were honest - he was in the same position. He placed his arm around Buck gently,

"What's happened to Diego is crappy," He murmured. "It's not something he - or any of us - should have to go through-"

He trailed off as Buck looked at him, eyes damp with tears,

"That's just it, ain't it," The weasel's voice crackled with emotion. "Whenever someone else 'as a problem, we 'ave to fix it...we're the ones that 'ave'ta suffer...but who's ever there for us, Frank? We're _always _the 'eroes, and we're _always _the ones who others depend on, who others call...and we _always _suffer fer it, cos we're tha ones picking up the pieces whilst everyone else can 'ave a life. An' what's the point? So that other people can be '_appy_ just cos _we_ took on their problems fer 'em? What about us? Don't we deserve ta be 'appy sometime?"

No words could form in his mind, let alone usher from his mouth as a reply; no words seemed valid at that moment. He knew he couldn't refute, rebuke or deny anything Buck had said, because he felt exactly the same way. Sensing he had to do something, he drew the weasel in closely, wrapping him in a hug. Silent though it was, he felt the weasel's tears wetting his shirt.

"Good _God, _since when did you guys go all mopey?"

He felt both himself and Buck jump in their seats, both sitting bolt upright. He turned in surprise, only for it to morph into a glare as he recognised Terry and his oh-so-smug expression. Frank gestured for another drink and took a swig, eyes never leaving Terry's,

"I told them to call for _help,_" Frank finally replied. "When we need arrogant swaggering, you'll be the first person I'll call."

"S'funny, boss," Terry said, smirking. "I was just about to say the same thing."

Several moments passed before both men began chuckling.

"It's good to see you Terry," Frank said. "And I'm hoping you have a small pile of money on you?"

"Sure do, boss," Terry replied, downing his drink. "But what's the point in paying right now when theres still a good few hours of drinking to be done?"

"The blur's got a point!" Buck said.

He joined Terry in eyeing the weasel with amusement.

"...'k, well, maybe not for him, but I ain't seeing you shootin' at me yet boss, so you can't be drunk enough yet for Claire to get pissy with ya," Terry said, smiling. "So I just got one question; pint or shot?"

Frank couldn't help but laugh.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Manny sat still, eyes attentively on the judge as she rustled through her papers, scanning through the ever-mounting documents related to the case. He felt like he had been stuck in the courtroom for hours; a quick glance at the clock on the back wall confirmed it for him. He slumped slightly in his chair, silently wishing Helen would let him go.

"Your statement thus far has raised a few questions for me, sergeant," She said. "Such as why such a mob would shift from trying to kill you to rejoicing at your presence."

"In all honesty, your honour, I was thinking the same thing," Manny remarked. "I actually got a chance to ask the Regent on our way to the prisoner..."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Manny could hear Max talking, telling them about their adventures after they had parted ways, but he heard none of it over the din of his own thoughts. Moving though he was, his eyes rarely left the floor, keen to not be distracted by anything else. Occasionally, he flickered his gaze up to William - leading the group in silence from the front - and back to the plains below, visualising the dancing, cheering mob they had left there.

It made no sense to him. It made no sense why such a crowd of people would go from murderous to joyful at the drop of a hat; it made no sense that anything could possibly drag the Bredelands into the dust. Blankly staring at William, he mulled it over, sensing the scattered images and thoughts of the last day become increasingly convoluted as they did so.

_Only one way to find out, Manny old boy._

"Will, can I ask a question?" He asked.

The Regent slowed slightly, shooting a smile at him,

"Be my guest."

"What _happened _back there? Why were they keen on killing us?"

William slowed to a stop, every inch of his being exuding weariness.

"They did not want to kill _you, _Manny," He said slowly.

He raised an eyebrow at the specificity of the remark.

"So..." He said. "Who were they trying to kill, then?"

The Regent let out a sigh, finally turning to face them. It took him a few seconds before he realised he was staring at Frank. Manny did a double take, gaze flickering between his old friend - and his even older friend - with disbelief. Frank's eyes widened in realisation,

"You have got to be _kidding_ me," Frank protested. "Why do they want to kill _me_?"

"Yeah, cos you have nothing but friends here," Diego said playfully

"Not now, Diego." Frank replied angrily.

"No, no, not _you, _per se," William replied, shaking his trunk in dismay. "It's...there's no way of putting it delicately, and I'm sorry...they wanted to kill you...because you are-"

Manny kicked himself for not realising sooner,

"_Human_," He butted in. He turned to Frank, eyes suddenly full of concern. "They wanted to kill you because you are human."

All life seemed to drain out of William. Slowly - almost painfully slowly - he nodded,

"What he says is true," He murmured. "Our relations with humanity are not as close and cosy as yours, old friend,"

Manny shot his eyes back up, realising the mammoth was speaking to him,

"During my tenure as Regent, the humans have been a growing threat to our society...and, so far, all that we have learnt of humans is that they are resourceful, determined, and can _never _be trusted."

_Bad choice of words, _he mentally said at his friend before quickly glancing at Frank, who didn't look pleased at the statement.

"Oh good," Frank remarked acridly. "A bit of racism is just what I needed to improve this already _delightfully welcoming _day."

"Don't let it get to you," Manny whispered quickly. "And, whatever you do, _don't shoot him_."

The human shot him a look,

"I wasn't thinking anything of the sort," He remarked weakly. "And, in a completely different subject entirely, it's rude to read people's minds."

William chuckled ruefully, snatching their attention back to him,

"It would be hard to explain a gunshot wound in my chest to the people of the Bredelands, Frank."

The remark caught Manny utterly off guard, sensing he was not alone in his surprise. All eyes turned to the Regent.

"First, how do you know my name. Second, how do you know that _this-_" He briefly held the rifle aloft, "-is a gun, and third, _how do you know my name?_" Frank demanded.

William smiled slightly as he turned around, leaving them in his wake as he continued moving.

"All in good time, Frank. All in good time."

He cocked his head, looking on at the mammoth as he wended his way up the path. Frank, still stood beside him, snorted,

"Why couldn't he just answer us here and now?" He grunted.

Manny turned, giving him the most incredulous gaze he could muster, wracking his brain for an appropriate rebuttal. The look on the human's face - one of complete sincerity - severely interfered with the attempt.

"..._really?_" He mustered. "_You...moaning_ about someone else...who _doesn't_ answer at once? That's like a black kettle calling a pot the same."

The human slumped, realisation flashing in his eyes,

"The phrase is 'pot calling the kettle black'...and shut up." He retorted.

"Oy vey," The mammoth muttered under his breath, before picking up his pace to catch up with the Regent. One by one, he could hear the herd below do the same.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Sergeant Hendricks, if I may interrupt you briefly," The judge stated.

Manny blinked in confusion at the name. It took him several moments to remember that _that _was his alias.

_And so, kinda, my name for the moment, _He noted, _gotta remember that._

"You have mentioned several members of your party in this exchange," She continued, oblivious to Manny's confusion. "Yet there is no mention of anyone but Captain Howard, the Regent, his guards, the sabre called Diego, and yourself..." Placing the papers gently down, she pulled off her glasses and stared inquisitively at him. "Where were the rest of your party-"

"Herd, Your Honour." Manny corrected.

"Pardon me?"

"We're not a party," Manny stated. "We're not a festival, a parade or anything else you wanna try and call us by. We are a _herd._"

The judge remained still for a moment, eyebrows arching as if with a life of their own,

"Very well," She said quietly. "I shall amend my statement; where were the rest of your..._herd..._when these events took place?"

"Will - ah - the Regent asked them to go ahead," Manny replied slowly. "He showed them the location they were headed to on the map, and went ahead with Ian."

"Is that so?" Justice Johnson replied, eyebrows once more arched. "So this Regent William was unfazed by your technology? Given your account, he seemed fairly accepting of it - even knowledgeable of it," She paused, allowing the silence - and the inquisitorial stare aimed his way - to sink in.

"Would you care to proffer a suggestion as to why this may me?"

"I have a few ideas," He replied, eyes fixed firmly on a random point at the back of the courtroom. Even so, he could see several people on the front benches shrink in their seats. "Actually, a few certainties, but-"

"But," The judge interrupted, her tone mildly exasperated. "You are about to tell me that, in the interests of remaining _chronologically _correct, as the good captain stated yesterday, it is best to wait?"

The mammoth smiled, silently thanking Frank for giving him an escape.

"Something like that, yeah," He said, quickly adding. "Your Honour."

"Very well," She said, checking her watch. "The court is now adjourned, we shall reconvene at nine AM tomorrow," Everyone - Manny included - rose to their feet as soon as she stood. The judge took a sweep of the room, ending with Manny, at whom she smiled.

"Dismissed."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Distantly, Frank heard a bell toll. Almost as imperceptibly, he heard it toll again. Faintly recalling he was in a pub, the meaning of the bells still felt beyond him. Briefly lost in thought, he was suddenly dragged back by the realisation that Terry's arms had wrapped around his torso. Thinking it to be a hug, he reciprocated enthusiastically.

"I love you Terry!" He slurred. "You're my best friend, you know that? You're my- you're..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Terry replied dismissively, peeling himself away from his vicelike hug. "Jeez' Frank, I though you held yer liquor better."

Frank baulked at the statement as soon as he was free from Terry's grip,

"I am - I am not druunk!" He mumbled in outrage. "I mean, sure, I might be swaying a little, but that's only cos the floor here's wonky! And I might be looking at you only through one eye, but that's only because _you've_ gone and been a git and gone all blurry."

"Gee, sorry boss," Terry grunted as he carefully picked up Sid and Buck _whilst _balancing the slumbering possums. "Next time I'll try not pixellatin' myself, how's that?"

"S'better," Frank replied. He peered about him in confusion. "Why is pub shut?"

"Last orders got called half an _hour _ago, Frank," Terry grunted. "Didn't ya hear the bell?"

"Ooooh! Was that - was that what that was?" He replied. "I thought I had just imagined that."

"Sure...come on, drunkie; let's get ya home. Claire's got some shoutin' to do."

"What's she shouting at me for?" Frank complained. "I've done nothin' wrong! I'm not drunk! See! Look! See!"

Flustered, Terry finally turned to stare at him. Straightening out, he affected as normal an expression as he could, and walked.

At least, he intended to walk; it all felt like a blur to him. He knew he was slipping, as much as he knew the bar seemed to be drawing very close to his face. With a dull thud, his world turned to blackness.

_Frank? FRANK! Jesus Christ, FRANK! _Terry's voice sounded very distant to him. Though he sensed he had crashed to the floor, the sensation of falling didn't cease. Panicked, he tried to scream and yell, only to realise he could not speak.

_SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE!..._

Downwards he fell, falling further and further away from the voices above.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Sensations overloaded him almost at once. Slamming his head into a table - in the last moment, he could tell it definitely _wasn't _the bar - he jerked backwards, only to find himself hemmed in by a chair. Everything around him had changed; the scents and smells of the bar had gone, replaced by the stench of smoke and ash. Rubbing his head, his eyes darted about him, panic rising in his chest. It took him several moments to realise that the mass of ruins and destruction about him bore the hallmarks of being Trafalgar Square. It made no sense to him; he had been there _that afternoon, _and it had been bustling, lively...and _intact._

"What the hell is going on?" He muttered to himself.

"It's your move, Frank."

Turning in he seat, he jumped out of his chair, sending it tumbling to the ground. Hudson sat there, smiling knowingly, a chess set arrayed before him. Like a bolt of lightning, he suddenly realised where he was; in a dream, being tormented by a figure he long had thought fictional. Frank back away fearfully as he held out his hands, quickly curling them into fists.

"What? No..._no..._ You're a figment of my imagination, and you. Are. _Not_. Real." He repeated it over and over again like a mantra, eyes clamped shut. Satisfied that the wolf would be gone, he opened his eyes, shuffling backwards several paces at the sight of Faux-Hudson staring back at him.

LEAVE ME ALONE!" He screamed. "YOU'RE NOT REAL!"

The wolf looked up, unperturbed by the response.

"I _have_ left you alone, Frank," He replied calmly. "For many years I have left you alone. I even let you take your first _real _move alone...but the game is not over yet, Frank...not over by far. And, it is now, once more, _your _move."

Frank held his fists to his head, screaming to himself.

"YOU'RE. NOT. REAL!"

Faux-Hudson shrugged,

"Suit yourself, but I would listen in future if I were you; the game is not over just because you want it to be, Frank. ="

He calmed himself briefly, peering through slitted eyes at the wolf,

"A game?" He spat. "You sick bastard! Our lives are not. A. GAME!"

Faux-Hudson's toothy grin struck him as immensely menacing,

"On the contrary, Frank, life is _the_ game. It is the only game worth playing...the only game you have truly been playing all these years. Except, for the last decade, there have been new rules to the game," Without warning, his eyes seemed to grow darker. "Or do you not remember? I warned you what the first move of the game would be when we last met. Everything depends on what your next moves will be."

_Frank, can you hear me?..._

He baulked, face wrinkling in disgust,

"DIEGO. LOST. HIS. LEG!" He bellowed. "WHEN DID YOU EVER _WARN_ ME OF THAT?"

Deep down he knew he had...he _remembered _him doing so. But he didn't want to admit it; not in the face of a person he was quickly learning to loathe.

The grin on the wolf's face got wider,

"Now _that_ would be telling," He replied. "For now, Frank, wake up. And don't worry, I'll be seeing you soon..._very _soon."

_Ah, doc? I think he's waking up!_

Frank looked to the sky, unsure of what to make of the voices above him even as he felt them dragging him upwards.

"Why would I ever want to see you again?" He spat.

"You will," The wolf replied. "Trust me, in time...you will."

Slowly, his world faded away, replaced once more by blackness.

And pain.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Surrounded by the sickly, sterile scent of the infirmary, Manny wiped his tired eyes with his trunk, catching glimpses of Terry's hazy look, Claire's fuming silence, and Sam's bored expression as he searched for a clock.

"It's midnight, Manny," Sam replied flatly, letting out a sigh. "...couldn't they have waited?"

Claire snorted,

"Like there's a _good _time to get so drunk you have to be hospitalised?"

"That's not what I meant," Sam protested. "What I meant was-" She raised her hands in annoyance as Claire glared at her. "You know what, never mind. Just, whatever you do, make sure at least one of them's in court in nine hours time."

Without even a gesture of goodbye, Sam left. To Manny's surprise, even though she still looked like rage personified, he saw tears in Claire's eyes.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

She shot him an incredulous stare, swiftly returning to glaring at her unconscious husband,

"He's been getting worse, these last few months," She whispered, gesturing at Frank. "Ever since Diego got injured, he's been drinking more and more. And I know," She cut off Manny's joke before he even _thought _to say it, "I know he's often seen as a drunk, but tell me; how many of those times happened when he _wasn't _feeling guilty?"

Manny blinked, taken aback by the question.

"N-never, I guess," He mused. "..._except_ when he was celebrating, with us."

"Exactly," Claire replied. "I know my husband, and I know for a _fact _that, if there's nothing to celebrate, he only drinks for _one_ reason, and one reason alone..."

His jaw hung slack at the suggestion.

"You think he feels _guilty_?" He replied. "Why? How could he have known that was going to happen?"

Tears streaked silently down her face, breaking down into full blown sobs as he wrapped her in his trunk.

"I don't know," She said falteringly. "I don't know why he feels guilty, but he is...and it makes me so angry he can't tell me why. I thought we'd gotten past that...I genuinely thought he could tell me everything now..."

"Hungh."

Claire quickly pulled away, wiping away her tears as they both glanced at Frank, realising that the human had begun to squirm.

"Ah, doc?" Manny shouted. "I think he's waking up!"

Within moments, Nigel gracefully entered. To his surprise, Claire's expression had once more resorted to tranquil fury as she watched Nigel check her husband. The doctor straightened out, nodding in satisfaction,

"He should be fine," He said chirpily. "We'll keep him on IV for the hangover, and he should be right as rain for the tribunal tomorrow."

"Thanks, Nigel," Claire replied. "I'd suggest you get some rest; you look tired."

The human didn't look tired, at least not in Manny's estimation. All the same, Nigel promptly left, leaving him to realise - to his dismay - that it was just a convenient excuse. With a long, drawn out sigh, he resigned himself to the all-too-real possibility he was about to witness a _massive _argument. Wearily, he turned his attention back to Frank.

"You're an idiot." Manny remarked as soon as Frank's eyes opened.

The human squinted up at him, groaned, and turned away.

"Shurup," He mumbled. "Answitchoff th'light."

Eyebrows arched, he quickly scanned the line of sleeping inebriates, looking up to Claire for her response. Silently, she moved over to the light switch, turning it up as far as it could.

Though he had expected such a reaction, the sheer brightness of the lights caught Manny off guard.

"HuaaaAAARGH!" Frank moaned, recoiling into his pillow.

"Serves you right," Claire spat furiously. "Nigel says you're fine, you're on an IV, and you're due in court in nine hours. Be there, and be _sober_, or you will have to deal with me."

Manny remained fearfully silent as she left, peering down the corridor to ensure she was out of earshot. In a flash, he spun round, glaring at his friend,

"What the _hell_ went through your mind tonight?" He growled as he dimmed the lights a little. "What were you trying to do? Cos' if it's annoy your family, congratulations! You've won first prize."

"Wasn't trying to piss anyone off...I was actually trying to find out what the hell Buck, Sid and the possums were doing there," Frank said, lacing his words with groans. "And it was going well, till Terry showed up."

"I'm _right here_ boss!" Terry said, reminding Manny of his presence. "So don't you go badmouthin' me, especially since I payed yer godammed tab. After all you guys drank, you should be lucky yer here at all! You guys drank so damned much, I actually thought the bill was in _yen _at first."

Frank lifted his head to argue before collapsing back onto the bed,

"Can this argument wait until morning?"

"No," Manny replied. "But it _can_ wait till the afternoon."

"Huh?" Frank said, confused.

Manny shot him a smile with no warmth,

"Sam's orders; you're in court in nine hours."

The human raised himself onto his elbows, peering at the mammoth through slitted eyes,

"Do I _look _like I can be in court in nine hours?" He shot back.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Good morning, everyone," The judge said, sweeping into her seat. "At ease. Please be seated."

Frank eagerly obeyed her, dropping himself into his chair. Correctly attired and - outwardly - seemingly alert, he felt like death on the inside. As he sat on the front bench, pinned between Manny and Sam, he devoted his energy to combating the urges to sleep, groan and retch. Attempting to stave all of them off were hard enough for him; _also_ maintaining the outward appearance of a man who wasn't hungover felt impossible to him. He slumped against Manny, hoping no one would notice.

Catching a glimpse of the curious glances Justice Johnson shot his way, he knew he had failed.

"Captain Howard," The judge said slowly. "Are you ill this morning?"

_Yes, _he thought, feeling the weight of Sam's glare on him.

"No, your honour," He replied promptly. "Just a bit of a cold."

He knew, as soon as he said it, that she didn't believe him for a second.

"...I see," She said dryly. "In that case, Sergeant Hendricks, could you assume the witness stand, please."

In moving out of Manny's way he forcibly - and, to his dismay, _audibly - _grabbed the edge of the table as the room seemed to lurch.

Whether it was his actions, the judge's remarks - _or both, _he thought - he felt eyes started peering at him intently, muted whispers snaking their way through the courtroom, and Sam's head firmly planted itself on the desk in dismay. He let out an awkward cough, affecting an even more disingenuous smile, as he sat himself bolt upright, hands clasped on the table before him. Manny shot a weary look at him, shaking his head in disdain. Justice Johnson, save for her eyebrows dancing across her face, acted as if she had seen nothing unusual occur.

"Sergeant," The judge said briskly. "Could you continue your testimony please."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Struggling though Manny was to keep up with William's pace, he couldn't help from glancing around, seeing landmarks around - foreign to him, yet familiar - at the same time. He caught sight of the plains below them, realising with a gasp that they were the Wildernesse Plains; the lands he grew up in. His heart thundered in his chest as he realised, with every step, he was coming closer to Senweca.

_I'm home again, _he thought as fringes of a smile touched the corners of his mouth.

Manny blinked as the claustrophobic walls of the mountain pass gave way to a valley that - though he knew otherwise - _felt _vast. In the distance, figures of the other herd members came sharply into view - almost akin to dark silhouettes against the shock of green the valley provided - standing beside a larger blob he assumed to be Ian. Ben ran forward to meet them, arms raised in annoyance,

"What took you so long?" He shouted.

"_Sightseeing_!" Manny retorted, knowing that - for him at least - it held a grain of truth . "There were some rocks we just _had_ to look at for hours and-"

"Forget I asked," Ben interrupted, his arms flinging higher as if in defeat. The rest of the herd, on seeing them closely, looked just as annoyed as Ben did.

"Is this prisoner far?" Ellie asked bluntly.

William extended his trunk, pointing it at the enormous cliffs face that towered above the valley in the distance, jutting out into the sky. At the base of the cliff, covered in the shadow, many more blurs seemed to linger.

"Do you see that cliff?" William asked, his gaze sliding over to glance at Frank.

Manny groaned inwardly as Frank shot him an incredulous look,

"What cliff?" He replied, deadpan.

Ellie briefly shot him a smile before thumping him - _lightly, _to Manny's surprise - with her trunk

"Don't mock the Regent!" She whispered.

Unfazed, Frank merely shrugged, shading his eyes to better see the cliff.

William, trunk still outstretched, caught Manny's attention, shooting him a glance he understood all too well, even after so many years apart; _I'll pretend I didn't hear that._

"… at the base of that cliff lies one of many caves, wherein we hold the things we most fear, _and_ value. _That's_ where we're going." The Regent finished.

Buck leapt up onto the truck, peered at the cliffs beyond, and grinned,

"Then wot are we waitin' for?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Manny felt more and more disquieted as they drew closer, the grey cliffs above looming large above them. What had been blurs in the distance slowly focussed into bears, tigers, wolves and mammoths, none of which looked pleased to see them. He glanced aside him at Diego, sensing the sabre's unease,

"Talk about overkill," The sabre remarked quietly. "Have you seen how many guards are here?"

The mammoth nodded slightly, eyes flickering nervously at the guards that stood before them, their scowling presence providing an even greater sense of foreboding than he had before. He glanced ahead at the Regent,

"Will," He attempted as light a tone as he could. "How big is this human?"

William's pace slowed as he shot a confused glance back at him,

"What makes you ask?"

He made a gesture that encompassed the whole horde of animals that now, slowly, began to surround them,

"Seems like a lot of guards for anyone _not _a hundred feet tall, don't ya think?"

William smiled weakly, nodding wearily in agreement,

"True enough," He admitted, his voice more strained than Manny had ever heard it. "But the guards are not for _our _protection; they're here for _his._ It crushes me to say it, but there are many people in these realms who would like to see this human die purely on the basis that he is _human."_

In the corner of his eye, Manny saw Frank, Claire and Ben instinctively place their weapons in clear sight. Turning to get a better look, he saw anxiousness, consternation, and anger in their constantly scanning eyes.

"You know, _Will,_" Frank growled. "This anti-human sentiment you're all having a craze for is getting a mite bit stale-"

"Stale or no, _m'lord_, it is a current fact of life in these lands." William snapped. In one brief flash, Manny saw a bewildering mix of anger, despondency and annoyance in the Regent's eyes. Almost as soon as Will paused, he deflated once more into the tired mammoth he had been the whole afternoon.

"It wasn't always so; if you had come even just a year ago, things would have been very different..." William smiled ruefully, eyes meeting Manny's. "Trust you to reappear in our darkest times."

Manny knew he had to reply, yet doubt racked him. His memories of the Bredelands, of the stories his father and mother had told him, floated back to the surface, yet still his lips refused to move,

_What if history didn't pan out the same for them? _He thought wildly. _What if everything I remember is wrong, what if..._

"It can't be _that _bad, surely?" Manny stated, surprised at the confident tone he heard in his own voice. "I mean, come on! The Bredelands has been through worse...right?"

It worried him how long it took his old friend to answer.

"Only time will tell," William remarked weakly. "But people are already saying a _new _Dark Times is coming."

His heart skipped a beat, even as he saw the herd exchange confused glances.

"W-what?" He flustered. "But, but, b-b-"

"As fun as it is to try and translate everything you two are talking about..." Ellie said insinuatingly, her words scything through the haze of panicked thoughts clouding Manny's head.

William let out a mirthless chuckle,

"The answer is a long one, and it-"

"_Has _to wait," Frank finished sarcastically, earning a look of incredulity from _every _member of the herd.

Diego moved forward, into the human's view, eyeing him mischievously,

"Do you find his not answering..._annoying, _outta interest?" He asked pointedly.

Frank remained silent, eyes cast firmly ahead. The look on the human's face entertained Manny no end, stopped only by his head hitting something solid.

And _painful._

"Here we are," William stated, utterly oblivious to Manny's grumbling. "The prisoner's in there."

Still rubbing his aching head, Manny made a quick scan of the cliff.

"Where?" He asked.

The Regent smiled slightly as he gestured towards what - to Manny - appeared to be nothing more than a wide crack in the wall. He baulked at the sight, gaze flickering between it and William.

"_Seriously?_" He replied.

"How are we supposed to get in there?" Ellie quizzed.

"_We, _don't," William replied, gesturing pointedly at himself, Manny, Ellie and Peaches before making a gesture that encompassed the rest of the herd. "They_, do_."

Looking at the herd, he realised Sid suddenly looked paler than he had before. The sloth swallowed, eyeing the crack fearfully.

"Ah..._us?" _He mustered. "In there? With a grown _human_?"

Frank snorted,

"_I'm a grown human_, and you don't seem to have a problem with me."

"But you're _different_! You can _talk_!" Sid snapped. "Humans from _this _time are better known for spears and killing things! I don't want to be a coat! I choose _life_!"

Manny nodded slightly, shifting his gaze to the possums. He knew, just from looking at them, that they were considering playing dead.

"And you two?" He asked.

"We choose life too!" They replied hastily.

"Oh for crying out loud," Frank muttered as he pulled out his pistol, nodding at Diego, his son, wife and Buck. "All right then. I guess it's _our_ big chance to become coats then."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The sheer length of Manny's testimony was a godsend for Frank. He sat there, feigning rapt attentiveness on the mammoth as he felt his hangover lessen. He knew he would be called up and, when he was, he was relieved he could once more walk in a straight line. He saw the same relief in the faces of all of his friends. He took a swift drink of water, before settling in comfortably.

"Captain, do you feel up to giving your testimony?" The judge quizzed.

He simply smiled,

"Your honour, do I honestly have a choice?"

She returned his smile,

"Not really."

Such a candid response wasn't something he expected, much less so for its bluntness. He shot a significant glance at Manny at just the same moment his features darkened, catching in his gaze the sight of Sam planting her head in her palms. He didn't need to see the balcony above them to realise the same reaction was taking place; after days of having the illusion of choice given to him and his family, the judge had finally broken the illusion for them. Having made a mental note of it, he smiled briefly and spoke, knowing full well it was the _last _testimony the court would hear,

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

If he had to sum up his observation of the cave in one word, it would be 'dark'. If he had two words to choose from, he would have added 'damp'. Shifting their way through the dank, bleak passages, the thought that a human had lingered in such conditions for an unknown length of time sent a chill down his spine.

"I wouldn't wish this kind of residence on my worst enemies," He remarked, narrowly missing a jagged rock in the blackness.

"It could be worse," Diego replied ambivalently. "They could have him in chains too."

As they entered a room illuminated by a small fire, they discovered that they _had _chained him, or as close as a society without metal could. The human's wrists were bound by vines, but done in such a way as to permit the human to move relatively freely...within a yard or two of the wall.

"Jesus Christ," Claire gasped under her breath, her hand unconsciously covering her mouth. "What have they _done _to him?"

Before anyone could respond, the human stirred. Through the mangy head of hair - and even through the dishevelled beard - it struck him how young the person looked. The more he looked at the human, the more he felt his heart sink; at best, the man in front of him was just barely one. Late teens, early twenties at best. For a brief moment, in the dim light, he could almost see Ben in the dishevelled prisoner.

The thought alone sent him utterly cold.

The relative peace of the cave was shattered as soon as the human opened his eyes. He screamed, thrusting himself as far as his bonds permitted him. Battle-hardened though everyone was, they all took a step back in shock.

"Easy!" He shouted. "We're not going to hurt you!"

The man raged against his restraints yet more, as if spurred on by his claims.

"First, humans from this time can't talk," Diego replied hastily. "Second, it would be easier to believe if you didn't have a _gun _in your hand!"

He winced as he realised his mistake. Visibly - and slowly - he put his gun into his holster and held out his hands where the human could see them. Whether from exhaustion or relief, the human relented, sitting himself down against the wall. Settled, the man peered at them with an intent, searching gaze. He seemed surprised - if a little annoyed - with his guests, until his eyes fell onto Diego. Studying the sabre, the man's slitted eyes widened.

The reaction, if he were honest, wasn't one he was expecting.

"The kid seems to know you, Dee." He remarked quietly, earning a snort.

"I don't know any humans," Diego retorted. "'cept for you guys."

He gestured to the kid's expression, specifically at how raptly he focussed on the sabre.

"That is _not _the look of someone who doesn't know you," He replied. "That's...what is he doing?"

Confused eyes turned on the human in the corner, attempting to divine why he had covered his eyes. To everyone's surprise, _words _- garbled though they were - came out of his mouth,

"Ware de bey bee," The man laboured slowly, as if recalling it from some deep part of himself.

Battle hardened warriors though they all were, they all took a step back as the human's hands jerked into claws ahead of him.

"Der hay is!" The man shouted. Almost as soon as he spoke, he clasped his eyes again. As they watched, he repeated the same motions, mouthing the same words.

"That's odd," Frank remarked as he crouched down to get a better look. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say this is-"

"Peekaboo," Diego cut in, his face a study in surprise. "It's...it's a game my old pack used to play...we used to use it with our cubs," He and the sabre locked eyes. "There's _no way_ this human could know it! The only human I know who's ever even _seen _it is..."

Cutting himself off abruptly, the look on Diego's face slowly began to contort into confusion, realisation, shock and dismay in rapid time.

"No...It can't be," Diego whispered. "It..._can't_...be..."

"Can't be wot exactly?" Buck quizzed, but the sabre remained silent.

Something about the sabre's reaction took them all off guard, but before they could even _think _about commenting on it, they found themselves rushing back up through the passages after him in disarray.

"What's in there?" Manny greeted them as they piled out of the entrance. His frown deepened at the chaotic nature of their exit. "What's wrong?"

Diego glared at him, forcibly keeping his breathing slow,

"Guess what," He growled. "Dya remember that kid we saved? Pinky? Well guess what; he is in there. And he's a _hunter _now."

Running after Diego made sense to Frank in that moment, if only to see - and understand - what was truly going on; for the first time in almost a decade, he witnessed genuine, heart wrenching shock on Manny's face at the news.

What scared him more, however, was the _fear _he saw there too.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

End of Chapter 4

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**This is a good moment for me, because this pretty much is the beginning of the story proper! My apologies for how long it is taking this story to actually take off! With luck, it will get quicker from hereon in; fun as it was, I really don't want this to be another 2 year, 200,000 word effort like Origins! **

**Anyways, as always, if you have any thoughts on this chapter/where the story is going/something constructively critical, please click on the review button! Provided your review cannot ignite flammable materials, then it will be intensely appreciated!**

**Till chapter 5, adieu**


	5. Shades of Grey

**Hello everyone!**

**Thank you all for the reviews, and I am sorry this has taken so long! As my beta will attest (Cheers for beta-ing this, DRL!) I was adding bits to this chapter up to the very last moment!**

**And I'll leave the rest for below. So, without further ado...**

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

_A hunter._

Diego's words almost refused to sink in, clashing against bright memories of a little child he once held tightly to himself. No matter how genuine, how honest his friend seemed, the truth felt unreal to him.

Little Pinky of his memories had turned hunter.

"Buh...whah..._no_," Manny flustered. "That cannot be Pinky in there!"

"You'd better believe it, Manny, 'cause he's in there all right!" Diego snapped, gesturing briskly towards the cave.

"Are you sure?" Sid quizzed.

"Yes I'm sure!" Diego replied

"Enough!" Ellie butted in sharply. "Arguing about it isn't going to help!"

"Ellie's right," Frank stated. "What you did decades ago isn't going to help us solve the problem _now._"

Manny scanned the sea of faces about him. As he did so, he caught a glimpse of a small messenger bird perch onto William's tusk. He stared, shrugged and continued looking about him,

"All right then," He stated. "Ideas? Anyone?

"He needs help," Claire replied. "We should bring him back with us to-"

"There is no way we're taking a hunter back with us!" Diego cut in.

"Yer a 'unter, mate," Buck retorted. "'ell, 'alf of this 'erd is! Wot makes this 'uman so dangerous? If the village accepted us, they'll accept 'im!"

"We are the _exception_," Diego replied, pointedly making contact with everyone's gaze. "Before Halstead Pass I was the only hunter in the valley. Even though I followed all of their rules, they were still scared of me until I helped save their sorry asses,"

Manny mentally willed the sabre to shut up; he had made his point. Diego didn't seem to notice,

"They are the _same_ people that got scared when we brought in intelligent, _future_ humans who know not to kill people...what do you think they'll do when we bring someone back who's wearing their skinned cousins and wielding a spear?"

"'e 'asn't got a spear, an' besides, what else can we do?" Buck replied. "We can't just leave 'im 'ere in chains!"

"Why not?" Diego said coolly.

"_Excuse me?_" Frank spluttered.

The sabre's eyes widened as he realised the implication he just made,

"Not like that!" He replied quickly. "This kid is a trained killer!"

_Bad choice of words, _Manny thought as he swiftly planted his face into his trunk and clamped his eyes shut. Even through his lids, he could picture Frank's growing ire.

"_I'm _a trained killer!" Frank spat.

"This isn't the same and you know it!" Diego growled.

"How is it not the same?" Frank retorted, arms flailing angrily. "This isn't about whether he's a hunter, because most of us are. Nor can it be that he kills to survive; even _you _do that, Diego. It is because he. Is. Human. How is racism ever honourable, Diego?"

_Worse choice of words, _Manny noted. Eyes once more wide open; he wanted to intervene, to interrupt the argument growing in front of him. But he - like everyone else present - seemed transfixed by the rage-filled dance playing out before them.

If it weren't so serious, it would have been funny. Or beautiful; he couldn't decide which. The sabre sized himself up beside the human, eyes practically glowing in anger.

"Don't you _dare _question my honour, Frank! It's not because he is human, it is because he is _dangerous," _He roared, eyes narrowing into slits. "You think just because you've been here a decade, you've seen it all, well guess what; you _haven't_. Not even close. The humans of this time aren't like you, _buddy. _They kill without asking questions, destroy as they please. They killed half my pack, and killed Manny's family!"

Ellie's trunk immediately wrapped around his, its presence comforting in the face of the truth he wished hadn't been raised. Just one look his direction by Diego immediately softened the whole attitude of the sabre,

"You take him back with us," Diego continued earnestly. "And, sooner or later, one of us is going to get skinned and used for clothes. It's a harsh truth, but it's still truth."

"What do you think, Manny?"

After hearing Frank and Diego duke it out for what felt like eternity, Buck's voice seemed strange to hear, even as it focussed all attention back on him. He knew his old friend; it had been a very, _very _long time since the sabre had said anything cold about another living soul but - for him - whenever he pictured the hunter he was railing against, he still pictured the little boy they had saved.

He imagined little Pinky being left to mammoths and bears and tigers. Even though he knew the child he remembered had grown up over the two decades since he had seen him, he was still young; he glanced over at Ben, realised all too keenly that Pinky was roughly the same age.

_This isn't right, _he concluded.

"We can't just leave him here, Dee," Manny said quietly. "It doesn't matter what his tribe did to us; he's just a kid. Things aren't as simple as they used to be."

"It is now even less simple than you all think." William, till then silent, murmured.

Something in the way his old friend spoke chilled Manny; it seemed bitter, defeated, resigned...

_wrong._

"What do you mean?" He asked tentatively.

The Regent rubbed his eyes wearily as everyone - even the guards who had attempted to remain out of the discussion - fixed their gazes on him. William eventually opened his eyes, his attention falling upon the little bird that still lingered on his tusk,

"Go on, Noah," He murmured. "Tell them what you told me."

The bird bowed, turned, and spoke so quickly he had difficulty keeping up,

"Will, thought you should know that the group of elders we've been concerned about have managed to drag enough into their camp to second the motion of whether the human is to be executed. Council session for it is this afternoon, please be there beforehand so we can discuss how to deal with this. Theo."

Even Diego, till the vociferously arguing against the human, looked stunned at such an outcome. Amongst the gasps, angry mutterings and sullen looks, Manny tried to compose himself, but he couldn't; all he could see in his mind's eye was little Pinky being put to death.

"You have got to be kidding me." Manny groaned.

"You can't let them do that!" Claire protested.

"I am not a _king, madam,_" William replied firmly. "I am a leader, bound by ancient laws to the service of the people through their representatives. I shall not disallow the Council to discuss, or rule on, _anything_ just because it is inconvenient."

"Inconvenient?" Frank spluttered. "This is a man's life at stake!"

"A man who has raided our lands many a time," William replied sternly. "Punishment ought to be meted out."

Beneath the words, Manny sensed the true danger of the situation as he nervously glanced at the enraged, passionate look in the human's eyes...and his hand creeping closer to his pistol holster.

"Argue for him in front of the Council!" Manny pleaded, hoping to distract everyone involved before bloodshed occurred.

It had the desired effect; Frank's composure returned as the Regent's expression turned pensive,

"As much as I detest the idea of taking a life," William drawled. "I am not in favour of this human walking away freely...they will see it Manny; they will presume I am not being honest in my dealings..."

"Then let us argue for him." Manny replied quickly.

"What?" William and Diego voiced in unison.

He lifted his trunk hastily, silencing the inevitable questions that would come,

"Let us argue for him in front of the Council. We'll take him far away, away from everything he has known," He stated, staring straight at William. "There are worse punishments than death, Will...one of them is being far from home, knowing you can never come back. We'll do anything...just don't kill him."

Diego's hardened gaze softened into guilt as William's brightened slightly,

"It's unorthodox," He mused, allowing himself a small smile. "But with the agreement of the Chancellor - and her agreement of _all of you -_ it should be eminently doable! But we must be quick. Noa!"

The bird, still perched on his tusk, flapped his wings anxiously,

"Yes, Regent?"

"Tell the Chancellor we are on our way; inform her that we have..._advocates..._for the human coming," He took a breath. "Fly, now!"

Noa had barely leapt off of his tusks before he was waving his trunk, issuing orders. Manny could only stare in awe as the elderly statesman before him seemed to transform into the young mammoth he used to know,

"Guards!" William roared. "Get the human out of the cave, treat him fairly, give him food, the chance to bathe - whatever is necessary - just ensure he is at the Council as soon as possible!" The guards obliged speedily. William turning, shooting them all a grin,

"We must hurry; there's a boy's life at stake!" He proclaimed enthusiastically. "Follow me!"

Bewildered, enthralled and anxious though they all were, the herd obliged. With the humans, possums, Buck, Sid and Peaches in Ian, driving alongside them, Manny shot a glance at Ellie and followed the Regent, deeper and deeper into the heart of the Bredelands, and into a fight he never expected to fight.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

As soon as the court session was over, Frank let out a sigh. He would have felt relief, even joy, at the realisation he could leave the court for another day, but the judge's words still lingered in his mind. Making his way to the chair beside Manny, he could tell they lingered in his as well; he looked tired, haggard, and as unamused as he was.

"Did you pick up on what the judge said?" He asked. Manny nodded grimly,

"We're not here as guests giving testimonies," The mammoth admitted, rubbing his eyes with his trunk. "And if we're not here as guests, then what are we?"

"Prisoners," Frank replied, slumping slightly in his chair, glancing suspiciously at the people around him. "We need to get out of here. Now."

"And go where?" Manny stated.

"_Home,_" Frank said. "We're allies, not insubordinates. And unless they can figure that one out on their own, then we shouldn't be party to this."

The mammoth chuckled mirthlessly, his eyes drifting to a huddled group by the judge's dais, spotting the secretary general amongst them,

"You sister will never allow us to," He murmured. "You know she-"

"She can go to hell for all I care," Frank snapped. "Come on, we're leaving."

He knew Sam noticed their rapid exit, just as much as he knew she was hot on their heels. True to form, he heard the doors slam open behind him. With a glance at Manny, they both kept walking.

"Frank! Manny! Wait!" She called out. "She didn't mean what she said."

"It sure looked it to us," Manny remarked, eyes still locked ahead of him. "And Frank and me figured, if we've got no choice, we'd rather have no choice back _home._"

With surprising speed, Sam now stood before them, blocking their way with raised, pleading hands.

"I _know _what it sounded like," She said quickly. "And it can be rectified easil-"

"And what about the ordering around?" Frank snapped. "How you've treated us? How about letting us go home for more than an hour or two?"

She seemed to deflate before them, all surety having drained from her face; only desperation remained.

"I'm sorry," She replied mutely. "We've been so caught up in trying to make sense of this chaos on our side that we forgot you-"

"Weren't enemies?" Frank offered.

"Aren't prisoners?" Manny added.

She deflated even further,

"We forgot you are our _allies_, and I'm sorry," She checked her watch, her eyes briefly glazing over contemplatively.

"Tell you what; take a week off, go home, and _rest_. The only thing about the tribunal you will hear about is when I come over with Helen at some point to...smooth ruffled feathers...but we need you to testify," She raised her hand, stalling the scoffing she knew was coming. "We may have forgotten you were allies, but you've forgotten that we have almost six _hundred_ regional commanders demanding to know why civilisation briefly vanished. Hell, even we don't know the full story. We _need_ to know, thus we need your help."

Both men let out long, drawn out sighs. They had riled themselves up, gotten themselves utterly ready to rebuff an angry, totalitarian secretary general...

Only for her to act _reasonable._

"Does that sound like a good offer to the two of you?" She asked cautiously.

Frank glanced at Manny, trying to divine his thoughts behind his blank stare.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Why is Sam letting us all go home?" Ellie quizzed. With his mate standing beside him, they passed through the portal from a cavernous underground space in twenty first century London into the seemingly vast expanse of their valley twenty thousand years prior. The sensation of travelling through time had grown familiar - even mundane - to him.

The fact that Ellie continued talking compounded the feeling yet more,

"The tribunal isn't over yet, and she's let us go home for a week? How did that happen?"

"Me and Frank talked to Sam and asked her for a week off," He knew it wasn't _exactly _the truth, but was close enough. "And she said yes."

Her eyes narrowed briefly,

"That was nice of her," She stated. "Especially if it wasn't shouted out of her."

Letting out a laugh he knew sounded as forced as it felt, he moved on to let the rest of the herd pass through the portal. So keen was he to avoid Ellie's steadily intensifying gaze, he nearly walked straight into Ian. Startled, he glanced around at the welcoming party he hadn't expected.

"Ah...hi?" He said oddly, eyes flickering between several prominent villagers, Ben and Keira, who he shot a confused glance at. She merely smiled,

"Sam let us know you were coming," She replied plainly. "And we figured you would _desperately _want to hear about all the things you're needed for."

"Ah...no thanks, I'm good," Manny replied hastily as he tried - and failed - to subtly get away from the welcome party. "As much fun as sitting in meetings for hours sounds, we've had our fair sh-"

"Nothing you say is going to change the fact that, as you're here, you are helping," Ben cut in bluntly. "If any of us needs a break, it should be the _only _member of the herd that's been trying to resolve the valley's problems, the Council's problems, and everything in between solidly for _six weeks."_

"Six weeks!" Ellie exclaimed. "Is that how long we've gone fo...Ben, you look _terrible_!"

"Gee, thanks, good to see you too Ellie." The human replied blandly.

"I'm serious Ben!" She persisted. "You need to get some sleep."

He shot a weak smile back at them,

"Ah yes, I remember sleep...it's that thing we can do when we're dead, right?"

Frank - followed quickly by Claire, and less enthusiastically by the rest - rushed past Ellie and Manny, darting directly for his son.

"Quit your whining," He retorted as he wrapped his son in his arms briefly before holding him at arms length, giving his a warm smile. "You look like you need a stiff drink."

Ben grinned,

"Sleep would be better," His expression changed as soon as Frank produced a bottle of whiskey from his pocket. "...but a stiff drink would do just as well. Welcome back, dad."

"It's good to be back," Frank replied. The human - haggard and dreary most of the day - seemed to have a new lease of life, practically bouncing about the party. "Keira! Please tell me you have a _very _long list of things we need to solve?"

"There's a small mountain of requests waiting for you in your homestead," She replied. "You'll find them right next to the fire, just in case your enthusiasm changes."

"Yeah, about that," Manny butted in. "You were acting like a wreck just an hour ago, what gives?"

Frank shot him a grin and made his way towards the homestead,

"Sam's only let us come back because she _thinks_ we'll get stressed with all the stuff waiting for us and practically _beg _her to return. I for one, however, have suddenly realised I absolutely _love _solving the Bredelands' problems since, the more there are, the more time we'll need to spend here!"

The logic was calculating and cold...but, to Manny, it felt like a warm and comforting wave of brilliance.

"When you put it like that, I think I suddenly agree."

Ellie snorted,

"Figures you'd only do work here when you're avoiding something else."

"Shut up," He murmured through the side of his mouth. "I am not lazy, and I definitely am not as lazy as Sid."

"...I am _right here._" Sid protested.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

It had been days since Manny had heard anything from Sam, or even heard anything about London, the future, the UNTC or the tribunal.

And it had been _bliss._

Though he had to sit through seemingly innumerable meetings about things he couldn't care less about, to him it was more than balanced by the time he spent with Peaches playing, with Ellie, with the herd...

"Manny?"

He blinked, realising every set of eyes around the central fire of the homestead were fixed on him. He shrugged, offering them a sheepish smile,

"Sorry guys, you were saying?"

The herd, Keira and a pair of strangers- presumably representing the Bredelands' Council, he figured - nodded and returned to a discussion he knew he should have listened to.

"All right then," Frank said pensively. "So the Regents and the Chancellor will be here in three weeks time. Given the fact that most of us will need to be at the tribunal, there ma-"

"There will not be a problem," One of the Bredelanders - a fox - replied politely. "Only one Guardian need really be present."

"Our Chief request someone involved with Council," One of the humans mustered through an incredibly thick accent. Manny quickly remembered that the humans of the era were still learning the language everyone spoke.

"Chief wants either Mark, Claire or Ben."

The fox nodded his head in agreement,

"Both Regents are in agreement about this; it is better to have people actually involved with the council to meet them."

"All three of us could stay," Mark suggested, eyes darting to both Ben and Claire.

Manny snorted,

"And miss out on all the courtroom _fun_ the rest of us will be having with Sam?" He replied sarcastically.

"I'll stay," Claire stated. "It makes sense for the elder-in-_potentia_ to remain here."

"Sounds like a plan!" Buck chimed. "An' I think that's settled!"

"Not quite, Buck," Keira replied. "We still have the matter of-"

Everyone fell silent as Frank's pocket seemingly filled with noise. Though initially confused, bemusement grew more and more intense as he recognised the tune, the melody, the vibrations...

"Is that...is that a _phone?" _Ben quizzed incredulously.

He gingerly pulled out the phone, buzzing wildly in his hands even as it pumped out the sounds of eighty's glam rock. He winced, looking apologetically about him,

"Apparently the ice age has good signal," He murmured as he flipped open the phone. "James, there isn't a phone mast within twenty thousand years of me. How are you making this call?"

_"Are you near the time machine?" _James replied.

"Um...yes?"

_"Then there's your answer. Is everyone with you?"_

He knew everyone was, but he felt the need to double check,

"Yes."

_"Put me on speakerphone please."_

Having obeyed, he watched with amusement as the Bredelanders instinctively shrunk backwards as a voice emanated from the little phone in the midst of them.

_"Good morning, Angels!" _James chuckled. _"This is just a little courtesy call to inform you of two things; first, her majesty the secretary general will be gracing you with her presence, as will Justice Johnson, later today, your time of course. Also, I am pleased to announce that Diego is stirring. Nigel has asked if anyone would like to be with him."_

Relief, even joy, surged through the homestead at that point as smiles were gladly exchanged.

"Best news I've heard in a long time!" Manny declared. "Can we come now?"

The silence at the end of the phone served to dull the joy,

_"Nigel is recommending only one person be there,"_ James said slowly. _"...he doesn't know he's lost his leg yet."_

Any amusement at the oddity of the situation ebbed away, replaced with forlorn looks and resignation. Manny clamped his eyes shut, breathing deeply,

"I'll go," He said mutedly. "I'm one of his oldest friends; I should be there."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The cold, sterile environment of the infirmary struck Manny as the worst place for someone to awake, only to be told terrible news. Trunk wrapped gently around Diego's paw, he simply sat there, hoping he had positioned himself in such a way that the sabre wouldn't see the faceless, heartless surroundings before he saw him. Slowly, the sabre began to stir, grunting and licking his dry lips.

"Hey there, buddy," Manny whispered. "Take it easy; try not to move too quickly."

One of his eyes opened slowly, his whole head visibly jerking back from the light.

"M-manny?" The sabre mustered. "Whe...where am I? What happened?"

He tightened his grip on Diego's paw, trying with all his might to keep eye contact with him whilst suppressing the tears he knew wanted to stream,

"What's the last thing you remember, buddy?"

His head slumped back into the pillow, his eyes flickering between his surroundings, his bed and the mammoth in confusion,

"I...I remember being in a fight...remember Roshan fighting Alaric...I remember _pain_..." Diego's eyes widened, now fixed on his own. "What happened to me, Manny?"

He couldn't hide it anymore. Though his voice was level, he could feel tears dampening his eyes.

"You got hurt," He said. "Badly hurt...you're in the infirmary, in the UNTC's London base."

Even as he was talking, Diego's eyes drifted down, panic filling them. He jerked his paw out of Manny's grip, shifting himself onto his back. He let out a noise he had never heard come out of the sabre's mouth ever before and one he hoped he would never hear again;

Sheer, unbridled _terror._

"Where's my leg!" He demanded, eyes now truly wet. "Manny, where. Is. My. _Leg?_"

"They...it was either your leg or your life, Dee," He replied, allowing the tears to flow freely. "I am so sorry, Diego. I am so sorry..."

Diego shook his head, expressions flowing from angry to distraught and everything in between,

"No, _no, _it can't be, it can't...damnit, Manny, they took my _leg!_"

He moved forward, wrapping his friend into his trunk, holding him tightly as he wept.

"They took my leg, Manny...they took my leg..."

"I know," He whispered, eyes now clamped shut as tears ran silently down his face. "I know..."

In that moment, as the noises of anguish and heartbreak echoed off of the cold, heartless walls, Manny hated the world - and how little it seemed to care in times such as this - for what it had done to his oldest friend.

For what it had done to his family.

"What the hell am I going to do with no leg?" Diego sobbed.

He clutched the sabre closer to him,

"Don't worry Diego," He said. "I don't know how we can make it better, but we'll damn well try...It's going to be ok..."

Sobs greeted his words.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Having waited at the base of one of the many time machine's in the UNTC's complex, he realised just what a state he was in when the rest of the herd - with Sam and Justice Johnson in tow - made their entrance through the portal. Ellie's eyes immediately widened,

"Manny! What happened to you?"

None of his face moved, even into a smile.

"Diego woke up," He replied coolly. "What do you _think_ happened?" He scanned the new arrivals, surprised at the presence of most of the herd. "Why are you all here?"

Frank cocked his head slightly.

"Manny...it's been three weeks since we saw you. We're here to give our testimonies."

He smiled faintly, realising he should have suspected as much.

"It's only been a few days for me," He stated. "Diego's sleeping at the moment."

Ellie reached out her trunk, hugging him tightly,

"And one of us will be there when he wakes up," She said softly. "You get some rest; you've done more than enough, Manny, and it looks like you haven't slept in days."

_Because I haven't_ he thought at her, even as he relished the embrace. Except he knew it wasn't true; he felt he should still be there, just in case...

"I guess you're right..." He murmured aloud.

Helen jumped ahead, gave him a brief pat, and spun about,

"Right, ladies and gentlemen, I shall see all of you - except you, Manny - in court in thirty minutes!"

With that, everyone went their separate ways.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Everything felt like a whirlwind to them; it had felt like moments before that they had been arguing about whether to even _help_ Pinky. Yet there they were, being escorted up even more passages by guards and the Regent of the realm to face the Council...

It was a rare occasion that Frank felt underdressed _ever_; that day, however, he suddenly longed for something more formal than a tatty and faded leather jacket. To his right, Manny and Diego seemed oddly composed whilst, to his left, varying degrees of wide-eyed enthusiasm prevailed. He glanced up at the walls that surrounded them, only to nearly come to a halt as the walls simply ceased, giving way to a massive open air..._arena, _for lack of a better word at his disposal.

"What is this place?" He quizzed, noting the seemingly _chiselled _seats in the cliff walls, sloping gently to either side, rapidly beginning to swell with animals of virtually every species and race, all of them chattering amongst themselves. His jaw visibly hung slack as he realised there were - along with the chiselled seats - chiselled _stairs _lacing the sloped walls about him.

William looked back, smiling broadly,

"Impressive, isn't it?" He said, casting a proud eye upon their surroundings. "Welcome to the Council chambers, the very heart of Senweca and the 'lands beyond. For almost two thousand years, the 'lands have been guided and ruled from this very place."

No words could have come out of his mouth even as he tried. The more he looked about, the more incredible the sight before him seemed.

_Even modern builders would be proud of this, _he noted in awe.

He was so distracted by the sights about him; he barely perceived a sabre coming towards them, surrounded by yet more guards. Will raised his trunk in greeting, meriting an elegant bow from the newcomer,

"Chancellor," He said, bowing down. With a split second's delay, the herd did the same.

The chancellor - a golden-furred tigress, to Frank's surprise - bowed once more,

"Regent," She replied. Her eyes flickered to the rest of them, before returning to William. "And I presume these are the ones who were foretold?"

Startled expressions surged through the herd.

"Foretold?" Manny whispered through the side of his mouth.

"How do you think I know?" He whispered back.

"Indeed they are, Madame Chancellor," William replied courteously, stepping aside with a sweeping gesture of his trunk. "May I present their leader, Manfred the son of _Clovis._"

Awed shock descended upon the smiling Chancellor, her gaze switching rapidly between the Regent and Manny.

He felt the mammoth squirm uncomfortably beside him.

"This cannot be!" The chancellor said earnestly. "The son of Clovis has been thought dead for decades."

"Hi there!" Manny said enthusiastically, extending his trunk. "I'm Manny, and definitely _not _dead."

The response struck both Manny - and the rest of the herd - utterly off guard as the Chancellor and her guards bent the knees and seemingly kissed the floor.

"My lord, I am Theodora of the Westernesse Valleys. Your father's actions in bringing my lands under Breda changed the fortunes of me and my guards, as we all hail from there. I am, and ever shall be, in your debt."

It seemed utterly surreal to see Manny treated so...reverently...by people they had never met before. For the mammoth himself, however, it seemed to be incredibly uncomfortable.

"You know, some day, you should actually _tell _us about your past, m'lord," Ellie quipped, earning her a glare from Manny.

"Please, _please, _get up," He said quickly, ushering Theodora back to her feet. "Thank you, but I am not my father...and my name isn't 'my lord', it's _Manny."_

Though she smiled, Frank could see the surprise in her eyes.

"As you wish, m'lo- ah - _Manny," _She replied. "Now come; the Council is set to begin soon, and we have much to discuss."

Honour though it was to be escorted by such an array of the great and the good, the tone was set by the prying eyes that followed them. With all the Council chambers having fallen silent and dark, brooding gazes affixed on them, the brief stroll began to feel like a march to an inquisition.

The thought of standing before the Council seemed less inviting in that moment.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The den the Chancellor ushered them into was well kept, even spacious, were it not packed to the hilt with herd members. Considering the space afforded Theodora, she achieved pose of calm relaxation magnificently.

Though it had to be said that even her pose couldn't hold a candle to the look of sheer incredulity she bore as she heard their proposal. Her eyes darted accusingly to Will,

"Please tell me this is a jest," She almost pleaded.

"No jest," The Regent replied. "Their words are as serious as the situation."

"This is no laughing matter, Will!" She snapped.

"Never said it was," He replied firmly. "These people wish to speak to the Council, and plead for the boy's life."

"At what cost? The Council has already made it known it disapproves of these people-"

"_Elements _of the Council," William corrected.

"_Powerful _elements of the Council, Will!" She retorted. "Who disapprove of you forcing the will of Breda upon them. But to have them _plead for the life _of one who has raided our borders since he could _walk_? Do you _want_ to be deposed?"

"Do you want to kill a _teenage_ boy?" Manny asked.

"He brought his sins upon himself by raiding our lands," Theodora replied.

"And you would do the same," Manny said. He turned to Diego, affecting a strangely light tone. "Say Diego, do you remember when we gave Pinky over to his dad all those years ago?"

The look on Theodora's face changed imperceptibly from anger to surprise, even as Diego blinked in confusion.

"Um...yeah?" The sabre offered.

"Do you remember what kind of man he was? What rank he seemed to hold amongst his men?" Manny asked insinuatingly.

Diego shot him a look, only realising what Manny was doing when he stared at him. If Frank were honest, he only realised then as well. The sabre - and the rest of them - suppressed the scheming smiles that hid under their feigned frowns.

"I do, actually," Diego said casually. "He was the chief. Probably of his whole tribe."

"Breda help us!" Theodora cursed at the revelation. She moved close to them, probing both mammoth and sabre intently with her gaze, only to curse again under her breath. "They speak the truth...and that complicates matters greatly."

William shot a brief smile and a wink at Manny before frowning solemnly back at the Chancellor,

"I believe it would be unwise to kill the son of one of the Black King's twelve chieftains," The Regent drawled. "Wouldn't you agree, Theo? Last thing we want is to bring our sins upon ourselves..."

She sat on her haunches, clasping her two free paws under her chin, eyes so intent Frank didn't know whether she was gauging them, or the problems lain before her.

"The boy must live," She murmured. "But he likewise cannot return home...not yet. We must treat him well, but he must be a hostage if we are to stay the Black King's hand for the time being..."

"We'll take him," Manny said quickly. "We'll take him back to our valley - Val do Resto or whatever you called it - and keep him there. We'll treat him well, don't you worry about that."

After several drawn out moments, Theodora relented and nodded her assent.

"Be sure you make them know who you are, son of Clovis; that should earn you more of a hearing. Tell them what you have also told me, ensure you mention that his father is a chieftain under the Black King - it matters not whether it is true or false; scouts can confirm that later - and under no circumstances make it sound like you are giving him mercy. Tell them you shall hold him, keep him, make it sound like another form of imprisonment...the Council can learn the truth of it _after _they have assented...many _seasons _after."

The cynical advice offered them caught everyone off guard, but they simply nodded and bowed; after all, none of them knew how their system worked.

Though, deep down, Frank hoped it did not truly function on the level of hypocrisy and deceit that had just been commended them. The old tigress' lips curled into a knowing smile, as if sensing the unspoken conversations amongst them,

"Sometimes, one must be willing to bend the letter of the law, in order to uphold its spirit," She remarked. "Now out with you all! The Council begins shortly, and we cannot be seen to have spoken."

"Why?" Manny asked in bewilderment.

"Because otherwise it would be yet more ammunition for your enemies," She stated. "Last thing I need are rhetorical rocks of my own creation being flung about...enough already is."

Manny and Frank shared a look, offering one another shrugs.

"It all sounds remarkably democratic, in the modern sense." Frank muttered.

"You mean messy, deceitful and full of lies?" Manny said with a wry smile.

He shot the mammoth a knowing smile, which quickly devolved into the two men laughing between themselves.

_And so we ride, laughing, into the field of battle, _he thought idly to himself.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Frank didn't take it well when William suggested he and his family remain in the shadows during the Council session. 'Humans are the most liked species on the best of days, least of all today' was the reason they gave him. A few sharp words later, and Frank, Claire and Ben made themselves comfortable in one of the many shadows the yawning edifice created.

He was surprised how effective it seemed to be; if any elders had seen them, they certainly were not letting on.

The chambers were abuzz with noise, the din of which seemed amplified by the very space they sat in. That was, until a sabre's roar stilled the mass of elders into silence. Eyes darting to the centre of the farthest wall, he straightened out at the recognition of Max - plain speaking, garden-variety sabre Max - standing proudly at the base of a stone seat.

If he hadn't heard it with his own ears, he would not have believed the sabre spoke so..._eloquently,_

"Honoured and noble Elders, please rise for William of Three Gorges, Regent, and for Theodora of the Westernesse Valleys, Chancellor!"

Hundreds of animals - of more species than he could count - arose quickly, bowing respectfully towards both William and Theodora as they entered, taking their relevant seats: the Chancellor sat in the centre chair on the farthest wall, whilst William sat down in the middle of the wall of elders to her right.

"Be seated," Theo said loudly. "The first order of business is to inform you of the Advocate's apologies; he is still returning from Porcupine Gorge and thus shall not be present. Now, to the second order of business, this Council recognises Cassandra of Half Peak, to speak."

Another female sabre stood, bowed to Theodora, and made her way to the seat that was carved in opposite to William's. The elder struck him as surprising; in the midst of greyed and greying animals, she still looked exceedingly youthful.

"Thank you, Chancellor," She practically purred. Her eyes scoured the scene before her, before visibly settling on the Regent. "Honoured Elders, for many years the humans beyond Halstead Pass have been steadily encroaching upon our lands, raiding as they please. They have killed friends, family members, _loved ones_, and have skinned our peoples to wear as clothing! Yet, for all of their evil to us, we have done nothing,"

She jabbed out her paw at William angrily, her tone switching into indignation. Standing in the shadows, Frank couldn't help but be impressed at her..._theatricality._

"Our honourable Regent has been holding a human for weeks now! Daily this scourge on our peoples has been fed, and the honourable Regent has even gone so far as to call upon help from the _Sur Ademais _as to _help _him!"

Jeers and grumblings hummed through the Council, sending his heart into his mouth; the tigress before him had clearly hit the right nerve.

"I say this is wrong!" She shouted to cheers. "We should not pander to the whims of a people who see us as nothing but food and clothing!" Even more cheers greeted her. "And thus it is so, honoured Elders of these magnificent lands, that I propose to this chamber that we must send the humans a message they will understand! We cannot deal with these savages as we would decent people; if blood is what they understand, then blood is what we shall give them!" The cheers elated into roars of approval, pointedly mostly coming from _her _side of the Council.

"Therefore, brothers and sisters, honoured Elders, _patriots_ all, I commend that this human be put to death atop the Wall of Halstead Pass, that the humans may see and tremble and leave us alone!"

The Chancellor could barely be heard over the din of cheering and jeering that erupted as the tigress retook her seat. As quickly as he could, William hopped onto his feet, subtly gesturing for a chance to speak.

"ORDER!" Theodora yelled, compounding it with a roar. "Keep silence! The Council recognises William of the Three Gorges, Regent, to speak!"

The pattern of jeering and cheering was becoming familiar to Frank now, as he stood there; as far as he could tell, the two halves of the Council represented _parties._

Such a familiar concept startled him, seeing as he had last known of it existing millennia in the future.

"My thanks, Chancellor," William said formally. "And my thanks to the honoured Elder for Half Peak; it brings me great joy to see such passion and determination being utilised for the good of this realm. She is indeed right that I - with the full permission and acquiescence of sent word to the Sur Ademais a week ago with regards to the prisoner she has mentioned, and it has proven fruitful. To explain, I wish to introduce my esteemed colleague, and invite him to speak before the Council."

The mood of the chamber seemed to change as soon as Manny rose out of his seat. Confused whispers travelled through the room, even as Theodora feigned surprise,

"My lord Regent, who is your esteemed colleague?"

William smiled slightly,

"I would wish him to answer that himself, Chancellor."

Wordlessly urged by Will to speak up, Manny stepped forward and spoke in a manner Frank had never heard before; even his _accent _seemed to change,

"Chancellor, honoured Elders, I am one of the leaders of the Val do Resto, and was called upon by the honourable Regent to give my advice on the fate of the human child you have."

The name of the valley alone sent a jolt of animated glances in Manny's direction, and Cassandra to her feet,

"And what, esteemed leader of the Val do Resto, may we call you by?" She asked.

"My name is Manfred, formerly of the Three Gorges, and the son of Clovis."

Every conceivable response and action danced through the chambers on waves on incoherent noise. To his surprise, the Chancellor did nothing to quell it as its tenor swiftly fixated upon joy, cheering and elation.

The knowing smile on both Regent and Chancellor's face - and the resigned look on the Elder for Half Peak's - told him all he needed to know of what was to happen.

Even before Manny had truly opened his mouth, he knew they had won.

"I have come here this day, to plead for the life of the child you hold," Manny - or, rather, _Manfred the son of Clovis, _he mentally amended- stated. "And to warn you against killing so esteemed and powerful a human, for the damage it would do to the peace and prosperity of the realm..."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

He felt like he had been pacing for hours, waiting for the Council to reach its decision. Not for the first time had the Chancellor's spacious cave felt cramped; given his not-exactly-small stature, he kept running out of dirt, forcing him to turn about,

"I'm not sure these floors are suited to such intense pacing, 'son of Clovis'." Diego replied, a small smile on his face.

"Can you guys stop calling me that?" He snapped back. "I did what I had to do and said what I had to say-"

"We shan't, Manfred dearest, for truly, I have ne'er heard thee speak so eloquently!" Frank taunted in a lyrical tone.

"Can you _stop?_" He nearly shouted, no longer pacing and wiping the smiles from their faces. He jagged pointed out of the cave, motioning for the Council chambers. "That was _not _me! That was _never _me! It was just a show; just used all the tricks I got taught as a kid. It was _never_ me, now cut it out!"

"All right, take it easy, we were just kidding!" Ellie replied, trunk raised in placation. "But can you at least tell us why they care so much who your dad was?"

"I-" He began angrily, but cut himself off. He had no idea why it angered him so much, but it did. He slumped, searching the floor for a moment, as if expecting a revelation, and closed his eyes in resignation.

"I...don't know," He admitted. "My dad was an elder for a region called the Three Gorges...it's not far from here, actually...but he was never a Regent. I don't _know _what _their _Clovis did; s'far as I'm concerned, he wasn't my dad. This isn't _my_ Bredelands, just like this isn't _our_ timeline-"

"And that isn't something you ought to spread."

Those who were seated jumped up in surprise as everyone spun around to face the Regent. Those who had paid attention earlier had also thought to bow. William eyed them pensively for long enough that, deep down, he felt a tinge of fear.

He had heard enough to know that Will knew of rifles and their ability to..._appear..._before he had set eyes on them, but it didn't stop him wondering if the discovery that they are not from their time was too much for even the Regent to understand.

The memories of the rampaging mob they met earlier that day flashed through his mind.

"So...the stories are true then," Will finally murmured, anger hinted at in his voice. "You are all not from these times."

He shot an anxious glance back at Ellie and Peaches before looking at him,

"Yeah...it's true," He replied mutedly. "We're..."

How could he explain it to him? If the people of the valley had not witnessed it with their own eyes, even _they _wouldn't believe that they were a mix of people from different times and different timelines; and if not they, then how would a mammoth who had seen nothing and heard only stories understand?

"We're...complicated." He finished lamely.

Will shot him an unimpressed stare,

"Is that the best you can do?" He asked. "'Cos even the stories are better than that! They say that you are warriors from lands before time, who had joined together with _yourselves _from lands beyond time,to defeat a great evil on our borders,"

Only then did he see it; a twinkle in the Regent's eyes. Such a minor thing had almost instantly put him at ease; the Regent _did _know. Suddenly, what had been nerve wracking for him had weakened into nothing but an old mammoth enjoying himself...for _him_, that is; the tone and expression was still stern, and the faces about him still looked tense.

_You're a cruel mammoth, _he thought at the Regent as he shot him a tiny smile, even as he let him have his fun.

"I did not believe these stories when I first heard them! Tales only fools would believe..." Will couldn't hold it in anymore; he smiled. "That was, until I saw the _enormity_ the taletellers called 'Fort Halstead' that had not been there before...and the graves of the thousands who died there that day. By gods, that is quite a sight!"

The Regent was laughing now, satisfied with the looks on their faces,

"Oh quit your bowing and yer fearful quivering! I get enough false courtesy from the rest of the bastards here!" He laughed. "I knew where you were from and what you were before you even set foot here, but _damn_, was it worth it just for the looks on your faces! Now straighten out and smile; good news ill befits a fearful crowd!"

After the scare, it took a few moments before it sunk in. Almost in unison the herd exploded in a mix of celebration and sheer, unadulterated relief. He looked up at his old and friend and smiled,

"You mean we did it?" He quizzed all too eagerly.

"You did more than that, Manny!" William boomed. "The Council voted almost _unanimously!_ Such a feat hasn't been heard of in centuries!" The Regent gripped his shoulder, beaming at him proudly. "Breda be thanked for suggesting your counsel. Now come on, come on! No time for dawdling! You've got a human to take home; he must be gone by nightfall, before the Council gets a chance to second guess itself!"

For a greying mammoth, Will succeeded in virtually bounding his way out of the cave, seemingly shrinking into the distance as he called back. "The boy must go, tonight! Come on, hurry up!"

He felt Diego move up beside him, giving staring on at the Regent with a surprised look,

"Ya know, for an old guy, he's pretty quick..."

"But...?" He said, knowing the sabre hadn't finished his sentence.

"..._but _if he ever tries to pull that stunt again, I'll maul him myself."

Manny snorted in amusement,

"You know, I think you should tell him that; if he's anything like the Will I remember, he'd like to see you try."

Diego glanced at him, and back at the still shouting Regent, a smile tracing across his face,

"I thought as much."

It took him several moments to realise that the still-shouting Regent was now surrounded by the rest of the herd, who now likewise shouted and gestured at them.

With a certain hint of inevitability, Diego outran him.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The cool wind, as it drove itself through the village, seemed to bring about shuddering in everyone around her, but to Keira its chill was refreshing. Curling through her fur as it tried to ebb away her heat, she cast her eyes about her, idling slowly towards the lip of Herd Hill, where a babbling brook of crisp water awaited her. She knew all the buildings about her, what happened within them, who lived where and where they were.

Even though the distinctly _human _concept of village dwelling was a new innovation, to her it already felt as old - and as natural - as the cliffs around them. As the skies above her gave up the ghost of the day, she saw dozens of specks of light illuminate the village.

Fixed residences suited her valley, she thought to herself; never before had she see a group of people take such an idea and make it theirs with such vigour.

Yet her smile faded slightly as she cast her eyes up at the herd's homestead. Unlit and uninhabited, the structure that held so many joyful memories of laughter and song and companionship was empty. Part of her had hoped the herd would remain; granted, the Bredelands held a place in Manny's heart, but that was a different time.

_A lifetime ago, _she said to herself voicelessly.

The prospect of the herd's attentions being split, no longer focused on the well-being of the villages within the valley, worried her. Always they had turned to her for advice and to help them in their role of overseeing the valley, but she was old; deep in her bones, she knew the days ahead of her were less than the days behind her.

"And if they aren't watching over this place when I am gone, who will?" She whispered, scanning the skies above, hoping whatever gods or goddesses were there had heard her.

A flash of light briefly illuminated the dusk sky. Snapping her head back to the ground, she focussed on the homestead. On first impressions, it was still as empty and lifeless as it was a moment before. But then, as she waited, lights began to flicker to life.

As if her words had summoned them, the herd had returned to the valley.

The brook held no more interest for her; thirst could wait. Even her age seemed to dissipate from her bones as she raced up the hill to greet them. She prided herself on the fact she was barely out of breath when she reached the top.

The normal sights greeted her; Frank, Diego and Buck hauling weapons back into their assigned corner, laughing as they did so. Ellie could be spotted nudging a complaining Peaches towards the stream to was her as the possum brothers darted about them. She spied Mark - Sid fast asleep on his back - moving towards one of the pillows to slide him off, whilst Manny, Claire and Ben were talking to...

Her heart froze in her chest at the sight of the newcomer, draped in skinned animals and topped off with a shock of hair on his face and head.

_Human. _Not the humans the valley had come to know and respect; before her stood the summation of every nightmare, fear and anxiety of all animalkind made incarnate.

Before her stood a hunter.

"What is _he_ doing here?" She demanded, halting everyone in their actions.

Manny spun around, giving her a nervous grin,

"Keira! I didn't see you there! Ah, we're back! It was quite an adventure-"

"What. Is. _He. _Doing. _Here._" She hissed, eyes still trained on the human.

Somewhere behind her, she heard the telltale _thunk _of rifles and pistols dropping to the ground. Moments later, Frank shuffled into her view, taking a place beside Manny.

"He is a prisoner," Frank stated. "A prisoner we are taking care of for the Council of the Bredelands."

"A prisoner you say?" She spat. "If that is so, where are his bounds?" She glared at Manny so fiercely he looked away. "You have brought a _hunter _in our midst, Manfred. One who is not like Frank, or Claire, or Ben; this human does not see us as people, but as clothing and food. Why did it not cross your mind to come ahead and _ask _me - ask the _valley _- if this is acceptable?"

"There was no-" Frank protested,

"No what? No _time?_" She retorted. "Ian! Can you hear me?"

_"Yes, Keira?" _Ian piped up, from behind the motley crew.

"I am confused, Ian; are you, or are you not, a time machine?" She asked pointedly, her eyes never leaving Frank and Manny.

"_Indeed I am, Keira._"

She knew she had made her point as soon as Frank winced and deflated. She took one last look at the whole herd, before resting her gaze back on Manny,

"Tomorrow, I am bringing the elders from _every _village in the valley," She said through gritted teeth. "And then we should very much like to know your reasons for bringing one who wears our cousins and fathers and sons on his back whilst he feasts on our daughters and children into our midst. I am greatly looking forward to it; the reasons must have been many for you to put as at such risk."

Gifting them no time to reply, she made her way back down the hill, back into the darkness, towards the nearby village, trying to keep her eyes fixed on the earth as the homestead behind her erupted into angry shouts, of which only a couple were aimed at her. She thought about her rumination earlier that evening, sensing dread well up with her. Almost against her will, her eyes tore away from the ground, focussing on the hundreds of specks of lights, clustered into almost a dozen villages.

_If the herd do end up watching over this place, what's to stop them from accidentally destroying it? What if their kindness eventually leads us all into becoming human food and clothes?_

To her dismay - and fear - she had no answer.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Seated in the newly-agreed-upon witness _bench_, the herd - and Keira - watched as a sense of foreboding swept over the courtroom. First the officers came rushing in quietly, whispering into the ears of Sam and others, none of them looking particularly happy with the news. The buzz of a hundred phones, beepers and other devices filled the room. Before Justice Johnson could respond to any of it, another officer was whispering in her ear.

Almost instantly, her eyes flickered towards them, filling Manny with a sense of dread; something had happened.

_Peaches? _The thought of something having happened to her sent him cold.

"This hearing is adjourned," She declared swiftly to the whole room before turning quickly towards them. "You need to come with me."

"Why, what's happened?" He asked anxiously.

"There's been an attack..." Helen said slowly.

"On who?" Keira demanded.

"Where?" Ellie chimed in.

"How?" Frank added.

The judged raised her hand, bidding them to be silent, and told them.

Within seconds, they had jumped to their feet, and ran as fast as they could.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Urgency and tension were almost palpable as the flood of people - doctors, nurses, soldiers and guards and uniforms he didn't know the role of - carried them towards the portal they needed. Sam had rushed ahead of them, standing like a grim sentinel over Nigel as he patched a wound over William's eye. As if sensing his eyes, the Regent glanced up, smiling wanly at him,

"Peace takes such odd forms, don't you think Manny?" He asked, confusing him slightly.

_This isn't the time for small talk! _He wanted to scream at the mammoth, until he saw the look in his eyes. He knew the look well; William was dazed.

_Concussed, _he concluded.

"What happened?" He asked.

"A few of the Unseen decided to fall upon us. Humans, with spears. Managed to kill two of my guards, before Benjamin and his militia successfully repulsed them...Theo's hurt though."

"How badly?" Frank, suddenly standing beside him, asked pointedly.

The group of medics carrying a stretcher appeared through the portal in answer, bearing the unconscious bulk of the Chancellor. The tigress looked much smaller in the stretcher, as if all of her strength had bled out of the gash across her side. Even as they barged past, drips of blood marked the floor.

"Damnit," Frank muttered, aghast. "This is bad."

William, dazed and unsteady though he was, shook his head,

"No it won't be," He slurred his words slightly, though he sounded confident. "This was the work of the Forces Unseen, not of humanity. The peace is not affected; I personally will see to it."

"Someone help me!"

_Claire? _

He hadn't seen her come through the portal, but it was clearly her voice, and fraught with panic.

But before he could open his mouth to reply to her, another voice called out. It sounded so faint, so thin and pained...

...and too familiar.

"Dad. What's going on?"

Heads turned back to the portal, watching with growing horror at the sight. Ben stood, right arm slung over Claire's shoulder - sword still in hand - even as he limply clutched at his side with his left, trying to staunch the flow of blood. Frank sucked in a breath of air, eyes growing too wide.

"Ben? BEN! My god, goddammit..." Frank spun around, screaming. "WE NEED A MEDIC AND A STRETCHER IN HERE! WE NEED TO GET HIM TO THE INFIRMARY!"

The blood had pooled about the young man's feet as quickly as understanding faded from his eyes. Suddenly, everything happened at once; medics rushed forwards, Frank lunged to grab his son, and Ben's eyes rolled into the back of his head.

The man who had saved the Chancellor and the Regent fell to the floor, into a pool of his own blood.

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**  
><strong>End of Chapter 5<strong>  
><strong>-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x<strong>

**Ben stabbed! Peace at risk! POLITICAL INTRIGUES! **  
><strong>Ladies and gentlemen, it seems odd to say 5 chapters in, but the story is finally - *finally* - starting :P<strong>

**What did you think of it? Have any constructive advice on how I can improve? What parts did you enjoy? What questions do you have? I'll try and reply to you all, provided you click on that lovely button below!**

**Till chapter 6, adieu**


	6. Threshold

**Hello everyone!**

**I'll keep this short and sweet; thank you DRL for beta-ing this gargantuan story, and thank you readers for reviewing it! I really do enjoy hearing what you guys have to say, so please do leave a review!**

**And so, without further ado...**

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

The last...how long had it been? An hour? A day? He didn't know anymore; it all just felt like a blur to him now. He remembered being beside the Chancellor, welcoming her to the new parts of the Bredelands...

Then he remembered black hoods, blood and screaming.

He pictured it in his mind, trying to make sense of what he saw; amongst all the blurred and half remembered faces, he suddenly recalled a group of men, hooded and cloaked, rushing towards them...

_Humans with spears, _he realised. _She was stabbed._

Whether for the wellbeing of Theo - or the wellbeing of the realm - he didn't know, but he went utterly cold, as if all his warmth was draining out of him. It was the last thing they needed; the trials and discomfits of two warring enemies making a common peace and common life together had already proven so taxing it has nearly torn the realm apart a dozen times.

Now, besides all of that, the Chancellor of the Bredelands lay injured at the hands of a human.

Looking up, he found himself in a room - an enormous room if he wasn't mistaken - though how he got there he didn't know. People he knew and didn't know ran about, speaking so quickly he couldn't understand. Spying out dad and Manny he called out to them, only to get stunned expressions in reply.

_Why are they so shocked?...oh._

He looked down at his side and saw the trickle of blood that had already pooled about his right foot. Without looking, he knew there was a trail behind him.

Now that he stopped to think about it, he remembered being stabbed as well.

"_Ben?_" One of them - dad, he reckoned - exclaimed, his voice drifting in and out of his hearing. "My god..._ get him to the infirmary, now!"_

_I'm fine, _he tried to say, but the words didn't come out. Swiftly, his legs gave out, his head only narrowly missing the floor as several strong hands got hold of him. He still refused to give up trying to speak, to tell them he was fine, that all he needed - and wanted - to do was to close his eyes and sleep. Everything seemed so distant to him anyway, what could a little sleep change anyway?

He faintly felt that he was now on a bed, but he could no longer hold his eyes open. So he let himself be carried away by sleep, feeling nothing but warmth. As he did so, he heard something from afar,

_We're losing him! Get the crash cart!_

He paid it no heed; other memories were calling out to him, but where would he start? With his family back in London, before he met the herd that was his family? _No, _he decided. He settled upon one of his birthdays...

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_Clear..._

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Ben remembered it as if it were yesterday. The secretive discussions, the subtle smiles, the feigned ignorance of the date. It had been his fourteenth birthday when it had happened. He awoke in the morning, expecting a happy birthday, maybe even a celebratory meal.

Nothing untoward happened. The village had still been very young in that day, and life just seemed to run according to the normal ebb and flow. Dejected, he nonetheless pursed his lips, swallowed his pride and got on with the duties required of him. It was midday when the time machine whirred into life, seemingly spitting out a wooden box. Intrigued, he had scaled the hill to the homestead, only to be greeted by his father, smiling, with both arms behind his back.

"Happy birthday, Ben," He said softly.

_They remembered? _Why had they been so silent? Why had nothing seemingly been done for it? Why...

The torrent of unasked questions stilled in his mind the instant dad held out his left hand. The hilt gleamed gloriously in the summer's day, shining so brightly it almost hurt. The scabbard was dark, verging onto black, yet he could still see the fine engravings glinting in the summer sun.

Suspecting a trick, he quickly glanced behind his father, eyes searching the lone wall of their home; dad's sword still hung there, and besides, he knew what his dad's sword looked like.

This wasn't dad's sword, he had to conclude; it was _his. _Though it wasn't said, he knew it was true.

_It's no trick; _he had to tell himself, _it's mine. Really, truly mine._

He reached out to grab it, but dad pulled out beyond his reach,

"This is your sword, Ben, worthy of the man you are becoming," He said softly. "But before I let you own it, you must learn how to _use _it. You will need to practice everyday, be willing to put up with all the bruises and harsh lessons along the way, just as your grandfather taught me when I was your age. Then, when the time is right, this will be yours to do with as you wish."

How could he learn how to use a sword _without _a sword? But before he could even contemplate framing his thoughts in words, his father wordlessly answered it; in his outstretched right arm, he was holding two hefty wooden swords.

Minds as one, father and son were reduced to stupid grins.

His memories of that afternoon were joyous. The pains of a thousand thwacks had drained from his recollection, leaving only the memory of laughter and the proud smile on dad's face as he learnt how to defend himself, how to parry, how to attack...

Bruised and aching, he none the less was happy with his birthday present. Clambering up the hill, he had a mind to get washed, find some new clothes, and-

"SURPRISE!"

Everyone stood waiting for him in the homestead; from Manny and Ellie to Diego and Mark, little four year old peaches cradled by Sid, Buck, the possums, mum, Keira...and Uncle Terry, Aunty Sam, and James.

In between all of them stood a little table with a large cake on it, its fourteen little candles lighting up the words on it.

_Happy birthday Ben._

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_Clear..._

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

A sharp jab in the ribs knocked him out of his reverie, and off his feet. He had no idea where he was for a moment, before his senses came back and reminded him he held a wooden sword in his hand. The sun shone fiercely down on him, causing him to squint. Even so, the sun seemed to extend a hand to him, eventually morphing itself into the form and figure of his dad.

"Your head seemed to be elsewhere for a moment, Ben," He smiled mischievously. "I couldn't resist."

Helped onto his feet, he quickly remembered that he was in the militia's training ground - or what passed for one, barren speck of land though it was - in the weekly competition to see which Howard hit the hardest. Spotting people on the fringes, he made a quick count and winced; almost forty people had witnessed his fall, not counting Peaches, Mark and the boy - seemingly transformed into a human by the simple acts of washing, shaving and being clothed in something that wasn't previously alive - they called Pinky. He shot a look at his dad who, for all his protestations of exercise and being healthy, had developed a sweat.

With a wordless acquiescence, they took their places, wooden swords trained at each other for a moment before lunging forward. As he parried, slashed, countered and jabbed at his dad, matching blow for blow, he wondered what it must look like from Peaches' position; no courtesies were given, and neither party held back for fear of hurting the other. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Peaches get more and more excited, shouting for both of them in turn.

Mark was simpler to gauge; as was right of any peer who loved him as a brother, he rooted for his dad to knock him to pieces. Spurred on by the mixed messages of the cheers, he fought harder, eventually swiping the sword out of Frank's hand and - fairly, he thought - jabbed him in the ribs, sending him to the floor. He stood over him, wooden sword aimed directly for his stomach,

"Do you yield?" He asked, a wry smile on his lips.

Frank looked up at him, heaving and squinting. Stretching out a hand, he hoisted the man to his feet, only for him to bend over and pant,

"Damn, when did you get to be so strong?" Dad asked him. "Where's the kid _I_ used to get to hit with a stick?"

"I won my sword six years ago, Dad," He replied, a smile forming on his lips. "And you do still get to hit me...only now I get to hit back."

Frank glanced up briefly at him and chuckled,

"I liked it better before that happened. I'm forty five now, remember!"

"You sure move like one, old timer!" Mark called out, laughing.

Frank glanced back up at him, seemingly ignoring the taunt...just before he ran off, chasing after a laughing Mark, wooden sword still brandished in his hand. Watching the sight of the pair of them dwindle into the distance amused him no end, tempered only by the silent staring of Pinky. The boy - tidied up though he had been - still unnerved him; with no way to communicate, the only other human in the era he had met outside of his family was still as much a stranger to him as he had been two weeks before.

"Ben! BEN!"

The calls were the only warning he had to dodge out of the way, lest Peaches crush him. Safe and sound, however, he dropped his sword and gave her as big a hug as her size would allow; he wouldn't mention it for some years yet, but the little child he once knew was now almost twice his size, able to crush him if she wished.

"How's my favourite sister doing?" He quizzed, scruffing up the tuft of hair on her head.

"I'm your _only _sister," She said, smiling broadly." An' my day's all right; saw my brother's butt get kicked today, so I can't complain."

He couldn't deny it, so he just laughed with her,

"Say what you want; dad might be old, but he's just as strong as he used to be."

If he were honest, it was more than that; he was _exactly _like he used to be. Forty five Dad may be, but he was the spitting image of the man he remembered looking up to when he was twelve. Peaches pouted slightly, her cheer ebbing,

"I wish I could find out myself...I wish I could fight with a sword," She murmured.

As soon as her eyes lit up, he knew what was coming,

"Hey! You could teach me! Come on, please, I really wanna know how to fight!" She practically shouted.

Her eyes shone so brightly, he almost regretted having to say no to her. He racked his brain, trying to find a way of easing her down gently whilst _also _saying that Manny would likely sit on him and kill him if he did.

"I don't want Manny to sit on me and kill me!"

_Smooth, Ben. Well done._

She didn't frown, or giggle, or anything that he expected. Instead, he saw the glint in her eye change slightly, and already he knew he had lost; he had learnt long ago what that glint meant, and it almost always meant mischief, trouble, or mischievous trouble. She leant in closer, glancing around conspiratorially,

"Dad doesn't have to know!" She whispered. "It can be our little secret!"

_...this won't end well for me, _he concluded, even as he nodded,

"All right. As long as Manny doesn't find out...which means Uncle Sid can't know either, or your dad _will_ find out and I will get flattened...then all right. I'll get Uncle Buck to carve you a sword. But-"

None of the rest of the sentence could come out; Peaches had hugged him so fiercely the breath was squeezed out of him, and skipped off joyfully before he had gotten it back. He looked on at his sister - not by blood, granted, but still true for him - and sighed,

"Can't choose your family," He murmured, leaving the rest unsaid; _can't choose your death either._

For a brief moment, he heard the word _CLEAR _echo on the wind - in _Nigel's _voice, for some reason - followed by a mysterious pain in his chest.

Walking through the village, he couldn't escape the mental image of Manny sitting on him. Thankfully, the dread did not make itself manifest, and he found Buck beneath a tree, whittling away at an overly large piece of wood.

The weasel noticed him, smiled, and turned back to the wood.

"Buck, I need you to carve something for me," He said quietly.

"Peaches already told me, mate," He said casually, lifting up the large piece of wood. "An' don't you worry; Manny won't 'ear of it from me."

He smiled and nodded, holding back the resigned sigh that wanted to come out. There was no stopping her now; he would train her, and risk her father's immense size bearing down on him.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Over a month had passed since Peaches had forced him to agree and so far - to his unspeakably immense relief - he was still alive. The old mammoth barely thought twice about Peaches, Mark and himself slinking off for a walk.

He didn't even seem to much care about the suspiciously shaped parcel he always drooped over his shoulder; eventually he decided Manny preferred grumbling about village councils than wondering as to why the younger members of the herd took such sudden interest in rambling.

That was, until he saw them leave for the umpteenth time in a row.

"Ben!"

He froze at the sound of Manny's voice, wondering whether his time had already come. Affecting an overly casual expression, he spun to face the looming tower of a mammoth.

"Sup Manny-o! Was gwanin?"

Bewildered silence greeted him,

"..._what?_" The pachyderm blurted. "I don't understand anyth-_never mind!_ Anyways, are you guys of on your walks again?"

"Um...yes?" He said, mildly uncertain of what was to follow.

Manny let out a sigh of relief.

"Good, can you take Pinky with you? Village elders aren't too keen on the kid hanging around here when they are."

_You get a live another day! _He found it hard to keep the relief he felt off of his face. He gave the mammoth a nod, waited for the still-silent human to join him, and made a move to keep up with the others. Peaches grinned when she caught sight of him.

"What took you so long?" Mark called out.

"_Manny_," He replied, pointing a thumb at Pinky when he saw their startled expressions. "Wants us to take him with us. Still seems to think we go walking."

"Cool!" Peaches squealed. "Can he talk yet?"

"Humans can't talk, Peaches," Mark said, quickly shooting a smile at him. "Present company excepted."

He simply smiled, hoping it came across as knowing.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Marky." He replied, brushing past them towards the woods.

"Oh really?" Mark shot back. "And what makes you say that?"

He paused briefly to look back at Pinky before turning to look at the sabre,

"Twenty thousand years from now, his descendants will be people like _me_," He smiled wryly. "And last I checked, I'm pretty sure _I_ could talk."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Left! Right! Parry! Counter! Right!"

The words were not truly needed anymore, yet he shouted them still. Armed with the specially carved wooden sword Buck had made her - complete with an especially large grip - Peaches blocked every one of his blows, went on the offensive, and held her own. Even Mark, armed with his spear, had vastly improved.

_So long as the enemy comes at us with nothing but wood or claws, we'll be fine, _he summarised with pride.

The human had remained animated-yet-still, eyes fixed on the practice with earnestness in them. He wondered what thoughts ran through Pinky's head; was he longing for the throng of swordplay, or for the meat and skin of his sister?

For the thousandth time, he wished the human could talk.

"Parry..._parry..._"

Everyone stopped to look at Pinky in shock. Ever since he came to stay with them, he had been virtually mute. Yet there he was, standing, mimicking the very act he had learnt to say.

"Ah, Ben?" Mark said nervously. "We might have a problem."

He shot a wry smile at the sabre,

"The kid's learning to talk, so the only problem we have is that you are oh so _wrong; _humans _can_ talk."

The stare levelled at him instantly told him the sabre couldn't care less at that moment,

"Yeah, and Pinky has just learnt the word _parry. _After _Manny_ sent him with us. To go on a _walk._ With _Peaches_."

A long, silent pause normally signified letting the thought sink in. For him, however, it had already sunk in; he could picture himself sinking into the ground as ten tonnes of mammoth sat atop of him.

"We need to teach him some more words." He concluded.

Peaches, only just latching on, glanced up anxiously,

"How many words do we need to teach him to make sure dad doesn't know?" She quizzed.

His blank stare drifted from her, to Mark's concerned expression, to Pinky's bemused one,

"I think we need to teach him all of them."

"In an _afternoon?_" Mark exclaimed.

"Pre-tty much," He replied. "That, or at least enough to make _parry_ go unnoticed."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_Clear!...Don't dare die on me Ben...CLEAR!_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

After six hours of repetition, wild hand gestures and sheer determination, they had taught Pinky four words, none of which were the words they tried to teach him; besides _parry, _the human had developed the means to say _left, right _and _counter._

After seven hours, he had also learnt the words _pointless _and _waste of time, _courtesy of Mark's weary sighs.

Deciding they didn't much feel like facing Manny's rebukes - and possible death - they radioed in to inform the herd they would be camping out in the woods that night and set about making a fire. As wisps of smoke trailed off into the sky and the warmth bathing them, more words came to Pinky.

As did hunting; the human, Mark and himself had quickly found several rabbits, all now skewered and turning slowly over the heat. The slow, twisting motion of the dead animals seemed almost hypnotic to him, sending him off into a world of his own...

"Do we know what his name?" Mark asked, dragging back into reality.

"If we did, do you think we'd be calling him _Pinky?_" He replied.

Peaches made a face at them, eyes darting to the human,

"I thought Pinky _was_ his name..." She murmured.

"He was two years old when your dad, Dee and Sid knew him," Mark said, slowly rising to his haunches and looking Pinky in the eye. "It was the name they gave him, nothing more."

"Why don't we ask then?" Peaches stated.

He slapped his head sarcastically, as if struck by a boldly bright idea,

"By god, you're right! I've been such a fool all this time! We should _ask _him!"

"Have you got any brighter ideas then, Ben?" She pouted.

Before he could respond, Mark rolled his eyes and turned back to the human,

"What is your name?" He asked.

Pinky looked at him unsurely. Mark placed a paw on his chest,

"I am Mark," He said slowly. "_Mark._"

A flash of understanding dawned in Pinky's eyes. The human sat up, rolling the new word in his mouth,

"Mark," He murmured, pointing at the sabre.

He felt Peaches' triumphant stare resting on him and decided not to look at her.

"I am Ben," He said. "_Ben."_

"Ben." Pinky echoed.

"Peaches!" She stated.

"Pe-aches," He replied, splitting her name in two. Eventually, he pointed to himself. "Ro-shan."

_Roshan._

He had to hand it to Peaches; though her plan seemed stupid, it had _worked. _Suddenly the human with no voice and no name had gained both, and the boy's name was _Roshan._

"Pleased to meet you Roshan!" She said, extending out her trunk.

For a moment the human merely stared at it, but Roshan eventually took it; he knew the human had seen the concept of shaking hands often enough to know what was happening.

"Ple-ased to me-et you, Pe-aches," He fumbled, echoing the words he had just heard awkwardly. Even so, he smiled warmly.

The sight of his smile drained away any fears he had had before; granted, most of the words he knew were still centred about the word _parry, _but now they could go back and tell everyone the human's true name.

_Roshan._

He lay down, looked up at the stars, and smiled.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Sometimes, even the wisest people miss things. Ben, however, suspected otherwise; Manny seemed more likely to let the blatantly martial character of the words Roshan knew go unnoticed, in favour of marvelling at his ability to speak.

It saved him the effort of sitting down, after all; crushing people was a tiresome business.

The rest of the herd was not so good at hiding their opinion; all of them looked on edge, nervously glancing between them and Manny, prepared to jump in at a moment's notice.

Except for Diego; he seemed to be a mountain of calm, eyes solely fixed on Manny, as if preparing to pounce on him.

"Roshan?" Manny mulled the word. "I've kinda gotten used to Pinky-"

"_Roshan!" _The human stated firmly. "No Pinky. _Roshan._"

"All right! All right!" Manny raised his trunk up in placation. "Geez, if I didn't know better I'd say he liked the sound of his own name."

"That, and _parry_." Sid muttered, raising the hairs on everyone's neck bar Manny, who seemed to not hear him either.

"Can we go teach him some more words?" Peaches asked directly to himself and Mark, seemingly oblivious to Manny's suspicious looks.

"Um...yeah, sure, why not." Mark replied tentatively.

Everyone began to leave, getting on with their normal day to day lives. Himself and Diego were the last to make their way out of the homestead until he glanced over at Manny; the mammoth hadn't moved, his expression a mix of annoyance, anger and thoughtfulness as it stayed rooted on something. His heart started pounding as he realised he was looking directly at him.

For some reason - hopefully his safety - Diego decided to stay as well.

"Ben, can I have a word with you?" Manny asked in a tone that brooked no disagreements, his eyes now locked on the disappearing figure of his daughter.

He tried to hide his flinch and his fear, but the glint he saw in Diego's eyes proved he didn't hide it in the slightest. Manny didn't seem to notice, and quickly he had spun about to face him, smiling so innocently he knew looked positively guilty,

"Sure, Manny, what's up?"

The mammoth levelled a firm stare at him, though he was relieved to see the anger and the annoyance had faded,

"I'm not a moron, Ben. I suspected what you were doing _before _the kid began to say parry over and over again."

His gaze flickered nervously towards Diego, his eyes silently pleading with the sabre to stand between them.

"M-Manny I can explain-" He fired off rapidly, only to be cut off by a gesture from Manny. To both of their surprises, the mammoth didn't seem angry; in fact, to his eyes, he didn't seem to exhibit any other emotion except weariness.

Manny let out a sigh, his sunken eyes meeting his own. Though the mammoth's face hadn't changed, he suddenly seemed older, as if his forty three years of life had just caught up with him.

"I know why you kept it quiet," Manny said softly. "I can't blame you for that...I think you've made a good start, and I want you to train her well."

Both he and Diego did a double take,

"_What_?" They both said in unison, bringing a smile to the mammoth's face.

"Didn't see that one coming, did ya?" Manny said, smiling. "Oh come on, don't just stand there gaping like a fish and _think _about it;our little herd has been in more battles and fights than I'd like to count, and not even a month ago we had a helpful little reminder that most of the people outside this valley would like to kill us. Why would I want my little daughter to remain defenceless? She might be mine and Ellie's - and she's got the stubbornness to prove it - but she's got more than enough of Diego and Frank - and _you_ - to go on to be a warrior ten times over..." He let out another sigh, a rueful smile on his face.

"She's not my little princess anymore; she's my little fighter."

_This is Manny talking, _he had to remind himself. The Manny who would fight for his friends and family or for a good cause, granted, but he had grown up knowing the Manny who had never enjoyed fighting, and returned to a peaceful life swifter than Sid does to sleep.

_This is Manny talking, _he had to tell himself again as he let the words sink in.

He repeated it over and over in his head, and it made less and less sense each time.

"Um," He mustered, breaking the silence. "O-ok then...I'll keep training her."

Manny nodded in satisfaction,

"And I'll send a message to Sam to make her a sword," He replied. "You can give it to her when you feel she's ready for it."

The human stood there, wide eyed, his voice apparently having abandoned him. He couldn't help but smile at Ben's confusion; he had never looked so much like surprised prey as he did in that moment. Manny cocked his head, eyeing him with amusement,

"You got something else to say, Ben? Or are you just gonna stand there and gawp?"

The poor man's legs seemed to have become wood, as he seemed to creep away rather than walk.

It still made no sense to him though, and he saw the same thought etched across Diego's face.

He didn't know what made him do it, but he moved out of sight and skirted around the homestead quietly and discretely so as not to be seen.

Years of training in the militia had paid off; not even his old master the sabre realised he was there.

"If you've got something to say, let's hear it," The mammoth finally stated, his tone suggesting he expected an argument to ensure.

"Just one question," Diego replied. "_Why? _And don't just repeat what you just said to Ben; I know you better than that Manny. If it really was all the fights we find ourselves in that changed your mind, she would have been a warrior years ago. Why _now_?"

The sabre studied his friend as he waited for an answer. Even from his spot, he saw past the weariness Manny seemed to exude, catching glimpses of other things at work.

He saw wariness... and _fear_.

"A hunch," The mammoth muttered before looking him in the eye.

"A hunch?" Diego repeated incredulously. "You've let your daughter become the fighter she's always wanted to be on a _hunch?_"

"A hunch I hope won't happen...but yeah."

"What hunch exactly?"

His eyes still stayed with Manny even as the pachyderm looked out into the distance, letting out a sigh in the process. He didn't need to turn to know that he was staring in the direction of the main entrance to the valley.

"Sorry Dee, but I'd rather not talk about it," He said. "Do me a favour though; post militia on the entrances to the valley, tell them to stay hidden, and on the lookout for an approaching group. If they see William or Theodora or even just someone seemingly important with them, tell them to let me know right away. "

_William?_ He thought in bewilderment. _Theodora?_

The implication caught him off guard, yet Diego showed no sign of surprise. Questions flared up in him, desperate to be voiced.

But Manny had no sooner finished speaking before the two of them made their way down the hill, leaving him alone by the homestead, surrounded by his questions.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Manny knows we're doing this."

He didn't know how else to put it; diplomacy had never been a strong Howard trait. Though, as he glimpsed the look of horror on Mark's face and the downcast eyes on Peaches, he wished it were.

Roshan showed no emotion on the matter, though that didn't surprise him; the human barely understood a dozen words.

_Most of which got us found out, _he thought. He opted not to voice that opinion.

"What did he say?" Mark asked.

"What did you think he said?" Peaches spurted, eyes sullenly cast to the floor. "He's gonna stop you guys teaching me."

"Actually, no," He said casually as he gingerly reached for the practice swords. He couldn't help but smile at the surprised looks he got. "He's told us to keep practicing."

"What?" Mammoth and sabre exclaimed in unison.

"Why?" Mark added.

"He didn't say, and I didn't feel the need to ask," He grabbed the larger wooden sword by the blade and stretched it out to Peaches, sharing a smile with her. "So come on Peaches; your dad agreed to let you be a warrior. Best get cracking with that."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_Clear._

He had never known a word to bring so much pain in its wake, least of all 'Clear'. Yet the word drifted on the wind for but a moment, and everything was gone; Peaches, Mark, Roshan, the valley and all their sights and smells...all of it dissipated as if made of smoke.

Sterility replaced the earthy scents, though he didn't notice it for long before the pain blocked everything out.

He thought he knew pain. He had even gone so far as to believe that all the cuts and grazes - even the odd claw-wound or two - he had acquired would have prepared him for the spear wound in his side. As the pain clambered through him like so many fiery pokers, he gasped for air, gasped some more and screamed. Distantly aware that several pairs of hands were holding him down, he thrashed and thrashed again, desperate to scream, to get away, run away from the _pain._

Shouts bounced about him. Though he couldn't hear them, he felt the reply; the pain began to ebb. He wept for joy at the beautiful sensation of no-pain.

Moments later, he found himself drifting back to sleep, as if being pulled down relentlessly...

...he didn't mind.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The pain was little more than a dull throb in his side when he awoke again. Surrounded by machines and their soft humming and beeping, he found himself _warm, _wrapped in layers of blankets, and intensely comfortable.

The comfort proved fleeting as he glanced to his left, only to find himself facing Diego, sleeping soundlessly as he cradled his missing leg. To his right he found Theo and winced; though less, the blood still seeped into her dressings. As if aware of his gaze, her eyes lazily flickered open.

"Good morning, screamer," She said, smiling slightly. "How's the wound?"

He snatched a glance at his side and winced again, seeing the same blood splotches on his dressings.

"It's fine," He lied. "How are you?"

"I've been better," She admitted. Moments later she smiled. "But I've been worse too. I'm not a stranger to wounds such as these; my home wasn't a haven of peace before it was part of the 'lands."

A voice not his own answered,

"You fought well and earned your glorious wounds, Theodora of Westernesse!"

"Roshan?" He mustered, craning his neck about.

The warrior's dress would have been comical if were on any other person; he would have looked respectable in the three piece suit he wore - _Sam's doing, _he decided - were it not adorned with a sweeping wolfskin cloak clasped at his neck, and his sword dangling from his side...

_The sword..._his eyes lingered on it, feeling discomfited by it. His eyes flickered to Diego, his heart sinking within him.

_The last time that sword was near Diego, it nearly cut his leg off. The surgeon's only finished the job._

He kept the thought to himself, giving his friend a smile instead; after all, it was only fitting he should keep a spoil such as that.

"Roshan you old dog!" He said as enthusiastically as his side permitted him. "Have you come to tell me how poorly we feeble southern Bredelanders fought?"

Roshan laughed warmly, pulling out a bottle from beneath his cloak.

"You judge me wrongly Ben! I have come to celebrate your glorious wounds, earned in battle. What better way to celebrate such honours than to drink!"

Theo's face brightened briefly, only to grow suspicious,

"Is that the piss those north of the border _claims_ to come from fermented grapes, or something drinkable?" She quizzed.

A wry smile crept onto his face as he spotted the mischievous glint in the warrior's eye.

"Do you really care?" Roshan replied, raising the bottle to be seen by both of them.

He wasn't a connoisseur, but he was fairly certain modern wine didn't come in some form of leather skin.

Though she squinted for a while, the sabre let out a laugh and grinned,

"You have a point," She grunted as she lifted herself off of the bed. "Beggars can't be choosers, after all."

After pushing his feet out of the way and seating himself at the edge of the bed, Roshan poured them both mugs and handed them over before pouring one for himself. He raised his cup, grinning stupidly,

"To Ben and Theo! May they earn many more wounds in battle and bring glory to their ancestors! To battle!"

"To battle!" They both shouted, and downed the drink in one; if the 'wine' had less chance to grace their tongue, the less of its foul taste would linger...

Or so he figured; he struggled not to retch the drink back up.

"Good!" Roshan declared as he hid the bottle away again. "Now to news; you probably fear the 'lands have gone to war with itself," He raised up his hands and smiled as a glint of anxiety drifted across Theo's face. "Worry not; the peace holds."

Theo slumped into her bed, her relief so intense as to be palpable.

"The gods are good," She murmured. "And Breda be thanked."

"Just so," Roshan nodded. "I came to tell you this myself, Chancellor. But the Chief here, she is not allowing me to return. She says something about wanting to hear me tell my story..."

He let out a groan before he forced himself to explain. Roshan sat, listening attentively, his face oddly devoid of emotion. He looked him in the eye once he finished speaking,

"How long has this thing taken so far?" He quizzed.

"About three weeks now."

"Bah! If truth they want, they should come and sit at our fires; we could give them truth in hours, not weeks! Why should we accept this?"

_Why indeed?_

He counted it luck that he hadn't been called before the tribunal yet himself. He understood _why _the tribunal existed; he just had issues with the slow and ponderous way they had decided to go about it. He knew better than to voice such a thought, though; he needed Roshan to go along with it.

If he voiced his doubts, he knew he would be cited as a reason for his obduracy.

"They have their traditions, we have ours, and both sides thinks the other's are pointless," He mused aloud. "Let them have their show, if it makes them happy; they want to come out the other side both understanding _and _happy. Considering what happened to them, I don't blame them."

The human smiled after a while,

"Then Roshan does not blame them either. I will go along with this show, Ben-yamin. But promise me this."

"Name it," He said before considering it.

"You heal soon, and stand beside me in this thing. Words are like spears; just another way to fight."

_Hears to that, _Theo muttered quietly to herself. He just sat there and stared, before finally letting out a sigh,

_So be it, _he thought, _Guess I'm can't run from the tribunal forever._

_-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x_

"Corporal Jefferson, I am glad to see you have recovered from your wounds quickly."

Ben glanced up and smiled, clutching his ribs to stop the pain. Beside him Roshan sat restlessly, eyes dancing about at all the faces staring at them.

"With all due respect, Your Honour," He grunted. "By name is Ben Howard, _not _Corporal Jefferson."

Half a dozen annoyed glances shot in his direction, but he didn't care; they made him swear the whole truth and nothing but the truth, and he meant to take it literally.

_You can't have your cake and eat it too, Auntie Sam, _he thought at her, responding to her scowl with a breezy smile.

"Very well, Ben," The judge murmured, shuffling through her papers. "If you wish to proceed as thus, then I presume the man beside you is Roshan?"

"_Regent _Roshan to you, Your Honour," Roshan replied quickly.

"Regent of what, may I ask?" She took off her glasses and peered at them keenly.

He spoke up before Roshan did, "Of the Bredelands, your honour."

They knew of the Bredelands, and of its importance; he saw it in the backs that suddenly seemed to straighten, the judge's most of all. Beyond that, if she was shocked by the company she kept, she hid it well.

"In that case, I thank Your Grace for testifying." Helen replied courteously.

Roshan gave her a smile that did not reach his eyes,

"Please, call me Roshan," He said as his eyes drifted to Sam. "Your chief is _very _convincing on these matters."

_There it is. _The glance between the two women was brief, but its effects were there to see; the annoyed glance, the briefly downcast eyes. _The guilt._

"I see," The judge said acridly. "Well, Roshan, Ben, if you may?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Roshan's vocabulary had swelled from a handful of words into enough to have a basic conversation in weeks after they had tirelessly practised with him. Eventually, he and Peaches had managed to convince Frank and Claire to join in and Mark had convinced Buck, Sid and the possums as well. Whether by peer pressure, wistful memories of the child they saved - or a hint of guilt, in Diego's case - both the older sabre and Manny got involved.

With such an amassed effort, it was no wonder the man's lexical armoury grew seemingly exponentially. Granted, his grammar left a lot to be desires, but he couldn't help but be impressed at how _quickly _he had picked up the language.

He knew where it would lead, eventually; they told him it was coming. As chance had it, he was sitting around the fireplace in the homestead when it finally came. He understood the reasons; they needed to know what the humans were like in this era, after all. They needed to know what they faced - what numbers, arms, positions, plans, movements...- _or, _if possible, how to make peace before war broke out. Good points all, though the thought of war with humanity confused him slightly, given how far away they were...

But such thoughts didn't ease the feeling that it would quickly become an interrogation; he'd grown fond of Roshan. Such a heavy grilling in a language he had only recently learnt didn't strike him as fair. He eyed the herd about him, realising that Mark, Peaches, Sid and the possums were absent. Whether by accident or intent, he understood perfectly; _only one person here would argue about pushing him on details. _

_He's not a guest here, Ben, _his dad's voice echoed in his head. _He's a prisoner. Just because we don't clap him in irons and keep him in a cell doesn't change that._

"Roshan," Dad said softly over the fire. "We were wondering if you could answer some questions for us."

He hid his gritted teeth behind a cup and pretended to drink as he caught a glimpse of the cheery, unaware smile Roshan had on him.

"Ask, Frank, and I answer." He stated.

"Tell us about your father."

The question confused him; he knew interrogations were grisly affairs, either gruelling mentally or physically.

Such a question was neither.

"Ah yes! Father is great man! Warrior! Chief of tribe," Roshan answered, utterly oblivious to his own confusions. "Runar is his name. Feared, loved, re-spec-ted. Now kneels before Alaric."

"Alaric?" Diego repeated. "Who is Alaric?"

"He King of all tribes. Many call him Black King. No one know where he come; came through snowstorm twelve summers ago speaking words that were not, then were."

Bemused glances danced about the fires.

"Words that were not..." dad's eyes widened in realisation. "You mean prophecy? He told you things that were coming, and came to pass?"

"This is so," Roshan replied. "Spirits are strong in him. Many say dark spirit; no man know what he know. Some say he use dark spirit to control and make king," He shrugged, giving them a slight smile. "Those people no more; taken by animals, many say."

Bemusement turned to consternation. Even he was interested, now that he was certain that his father's idea of interrogation was not - _thankfully -_ what he feared.

"Is that why they call him the black king?" Ellie quizzed, beating him to the question.

"This not so. He Black King for cloak he wear. Always in black cloak, with hood and mask."

They let the words sink in for a moment. He didn't need to look about him to know what they were all thinking.

_Something isn't sitting right here._

"His mask made of same thing your sharp spears is," Roshan continued, pointing at himself, then to dad.

Both he and dad sat up, looking at each other in confusion.

Both of them realised at the same time, almost instinctively touching their sword hilts.

"_Metal_," Frank stated. "His mask is made of _metal?_"

Roshan nodded,

"This is so. Also his right hand. He also speak like you. I see him speaking with shadow. He always go out at full moon, I follow him one night for many hills. He use words like these when speak with shadow."

"Heh, whaddya know," Diego remarked. "I guess Roshan isn't the first human to learn the common tong-"

"He no call it that," Roshan cut in. "He call it English when speak with shadow."

"_English?_" Manny spluttered. "You're sure of that?"

The man's attitude changed in an instant, as if a shadow had covered him. He looked into the flames as if brooding.

"This is so," He murmured. "He see me. He says words that mean I never see home again. Sent me on scout to die. I hear too much, he say. Bring shame to tribe, he says. To animals I must go and die."

"What did you hear?" He was surprised to hear his own voice asking.

Roshan looked up, staring at each of their faces in turn, before finally settling on Manny,

"I hear his name. I only one to know his name. Shadow call him 'Cart-wright'."

It all clicked so fiercely into place he swore he could hear the same _thunk _emanating from everyone else. For years - and _across _years - both the herd and the UNTC had been hunting for Cartwright, so he could suffer for the deaths of the other herd.

_He's on the other side of the Bredelands, playing King._

The thought felt like a punch in the gut.

The fire - and the homestead - seemed darker all of a sudden as a thick silence descended upon it. Dad was the first to stir, his seemingly dead eyes turning to Manny,

"Do you remember what Sam said the Dictaphone message was?" He asked quietly. He didn't need to explain aloud; they had all been there when Sam told them what became of the other herd.

She told them about the grizzly message that was left.

It was Ellie who answered in a strangely distant whisper,

"Your Judas has seen to this herd here deceased; eternal, forgotten and spurned. Now the guards cannot run, lo! Revenge shall now come, for the Remnant wills Rome to burn."

Frank grimaced,

"Bloody buggering hell," He grumbled as he stumbled to his feet. "Where's Sid?"

"Why?" Manny asked.

"I need to check something."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"The sack of Rome?" Sid slurred, still wiping the sleep from his eyes. "Which one?"

He sat in silence, watching the sloth intently. His father's decision suddenly made more sense to him; Sid had been the first of the herd to pick up reading.

He had also been the most avid reader. When he wasn't sleeping, he would be eating, lounging, waddling...

Besides sleeping, every other activity included a book in hand. Sometimes he even caught the sloth sleeping with a book open across his face.

It made life simpler for the rest of them; after all, why read books when Sid was a walking library?

"Rome was sacked more than once?" Dad asked briefly in surprise, before shaking his head. "Never mind about that! I mean the one in the fifth century. The _main _one. The one that brought down the Roman Empire. Do you know of it?"

"Of course I do!" Sid declared, as if his not knowing were an affront. "I know of it! I know all of it!"

"Who sacked Rome? Was it Alaric?"

Sid shook his head vehemently,

"No; Alaric had died of a disease beforehand. His brother Ataulf sacked Rome, although he only did so because-"

"While this is interesting," Manny interrupted in a tone that suggested it was anything but. "What does this have to do with what Roshan was telling us?"

"Everything," Frank said. Blank stares greeted him, practically begging him to explain. "In my _original _timeline, it was _Alaric _who sacked Rome."

"And?" Manny pressed.

"_The Remnant wills Rome to burn,_" Frank stated. Some eyes around them grew wide with horror, as if gaining some hidden meaning. Thankfully for himself, his dad explained.

"The Remnant are back, and they have decided that the greatest nation of this era... should burn. They left the warning in plain daylight, using references and names only _we _would know."

He felt his heart almost stop. _The Bredelands...he means the Bredelands...and they sent the warning to us._

"So they sent an Alaric to do it," Manny finished, almost too stunned to show any emotion.

"We need to stop him." Diego declared.

"How? We're over a thousand miles away, and besides; we are twelve against an army of _thousands_." Ellie retorted.

"One hundred twenty thousand." Roshan stated.

She jerked her trunk at the human, eyes still fixed on the sabre, "See? We're outnumbered forty to one!"

"You got any better ideas? We can't just let them get away with another mass slaughter!" Diego protested.

"And we won't," Manny spoke, silencing the argument. "Diego, we're not going to just sit here. Ellie, we're going to get a bigger army. The Remnant killed the last people we said we'd protect. We're not going to let it happen again."

"The Bredelands hasn't asked for our protection," Frank pointed out.

"No, they haven't," Manny replied in a tone that suggested an unspoken end;

_Not yet._

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"In all honesty, Your Honour, I believe Manny would be better suited to detail what happened next."

The moment he said it, he knew Manny had been going under a decoy name so far. The judge's eyes narrowed slightly, before nodding,

"As you wish. This court calls upon _Manny _to testify."

The mammoth shot him a death glare as he sat down. Relieved he no longer had to speak; he just sat back and listened.

Manny cleared his throat, and spoke...

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The militia that guarded the valley's borders spotted them first. As both messenger birds and Mark arrived to inform them, Manny knew that the Regent and his entourage had finally descended upon their valley, after months of expecting them. With less than an hour to prepare, he ordered Keira to prepare the village, ordered Frank to prepare the herd, and ordered Mark to prepare - and _recall_ - the militia to give the leaders of the most powerful nation in the ice age the welcome they befitted.

To his surprised relief, it came about more smoothly than he could have imagined.

He knew he had caught Regent William - leader of the Council of Elders of the eighty nine dioceses of the Bredelands - by surprise; the mammoth's look alone as several rows of militia greeted the statesman told him as much. With sombreness more befitting a funeral than a state visit, the Regent passed by lines of valley-dwellers, the council and - finally - the herd itself. Every member of the herd looked cleaner than they had been in weeks and - in the case of Frank, Buck and Mark - decidedly more _armed _than they had been in weeks.

Even Roshan - relative stranger though he was - was notable by how clean, prim and _modern _he looked in his loaned clothes. Soon enough, he forced himself out of his noting as his gaze met his old friend's,

"Welcome to the valley, Regent," He called out, raising his trunk in salute.

William grinned; grabbing his trunk in the closest male mammoths had to embrace,

"Thank you, Manny, though I did not think we were expected," He replied.

"You weren't," Diego stated. "Our militia spotted you at the edge of the valley."

One of the Regent's entourage - a hulking mammoth...and a bodyguard most probably, by Manny's reckoning - snorted gruffly,

"We saw no one," He retorted. "My guards are the best in the land."

The sabre shared a smile with Frank,

"If you say so," Diego responded. "And yet here we are."

"So why have you come all this way?" Manny asked quickly, noticing the angry glint in the bodyguard's eye.

"Besides having my Master of the Guard insulted?" Will replied, smirking slightly. Almost as quickly as it had come, the smile vanished behind a frown as the Regent looked about him, only barely pausing at the sight of Roshan. "I would rather I discussed it in private, Manny. Between just me, and you."

He shot a glance at everyone, hoping they understood his meaning;

_Know your roles people. The Regent must be convinced we don't know anything._

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The hexagonally shaped building they called the homestead felt overly empty with just himself and Will within it. Manny cast his eye across the valley, picking out the telltale blurs of the herd amongst the throng.

Part of him felt that their not being with him wasn't fair; it only seemed right that they should hear what the Regent had to say too, but Will evidently thought otherwise.

He let out a long drawn out sign,

"You haven't come all this way for a heart to heart," He said, only partially turning to his visitor.

"No, I haven't," The Regent admitted. "The price one pays for serving others is you have no life to truly call your own."

Manny smiled,

"I know that feeling," He murmured, finally turning his back on the vista. "Can I offer you a drink?"

"I drank at the pool near the entrance, thank you."

"Not that kind of drink," He replied, moving towards the only true wall in the building, and the liquor cabinet Frank had installed beneath the pictures. He pulled out a relatively full bottle and two large glasses. "We call this particular drink 'wine'. It's not bad, actually...just don't drink too much of it."

Will eyed the outstretched glass for a moment before he took it. As soon as he took a sip, he smiled,

"Fermented grapes," The Regent mused, smiling as he saw the obvious surprise on his face. "The weasels of Pike's Peak have a similar drink, highly popular throughout the Norte Ademais, and a fair bit of the Bredelands too...though that rubbish is nowhere near as good as this."

_Trust the weasels to have invented alcohol, _he thought, smiling to himself as he finally discovered the reason for the weasel's love of the stuff. Having poured himself a glass, he sat opposite his old friend, nestling himself into the cushions.

"So why are you here, Will?" He asked, already knowing the gist of what would be asked of them.

He didn't answer him immediately. Instead, the Regent looked deeply into his glass, before drinking the whole thing in one go, and reached for the bottle to pour himself more.

"Things are not well in the Bredelands."

"Things weren't well in the Bredelands six _months_ ago, when wewere there," Manny replied. _For the Remnant wills Rome to burn, _echoed in his head. "You yourself said so-"

"It's worse now," Will interrupted, his dejected expression meeting Manny's own. "More and more humans are being sighted beyond the northern border, refugees are fleeing south, spreading panic as they go; they say the twelve tribes of humanity have been united under one ruler. We've heard of him before, when he was just Alaric...now he's the one they call the Black King."

He feigned surprise, knowing full well how the Regent would take his knowledge that they taught the human language...and learnt more than he knew from such a venture.

Will hadn't finished, so he kept his lips pursed. The Regent's expression turned darker, eyes distant, as if his mind still dwelt in Senweca.

"The 'lands are at breaking point. Water and food supplies in the south are strained by refugees from the north; the Council is forming into two major parties, both of which are busy undermining my authority and the stability of the 'lands..."

"It sounds...terrible," Manny admitted. "And I thought meeting with the village elders and have them complain at me was bad...I don't envy you. I hope you find help with that."

Will nodded ruefully,

"That's why I'm here," He said.

_And here it is, _he thought; _time to play your part._

He knew it was coming, yet now that he came to it, he didn't want to lie to his friend.

Then again, he didn't want his friend to turn on him either; old though he was, he still looked stronger and fitter than he was.

All the same, he hardened his expression and shook his head,

"No." He replied coolly.

"You and your herd are already connected in the peoples' minds with the legends of the Guardians as foretold by their ancestors!" Will said keenly. "If the Guardians were to sit on the Council, provide a fresh perspec-"

"I don't care what the people say we are," Manny snapped. "We haven't been foretold, we aren't saviours and we are definitely _not _their guards."

"The people believe you are, and that is enough," Will retorted. "Please, Manny; I need you, I need the humans in your herd, and the weasel, the sloth, the sabines... _all _of you."

"But we _aren't_ who they want to believe we are!" He protested as he jumped to his feet, stomping a foot on the ground. _Show him some anger, and he might just believe it._ "I'm not willing to live a lie, and I'm definitely _not _going to ask my family to do so!"

"Suppose you didn't come as Guardians then," Will said. "Suppose you were elders."

"Last I checked, this isn't in the Bredelands, Will." Manny growled.

"Are you sure of that?" The Regent quizzed, giving him a knowing smile.

He glared at him incredulously.

"Of course I'm sure!" He said.

"If I recall our history correctly, then the Val do Resto was once the lands of the Council-in-Exile at the height of the Dark Times." Will stated.

The statement caught Manny off guard, bringing into sharp relief how similar - yet _different_ - his memories and his reality truly were. He remembered the stories his father used to tell him about the Dark Times, the times when Kings ruled fiercely over the lands.

He _also _remembered there being no council during that time.

_How much of what I remember is wrong now? _He asked himself.

"Go on," He said quietly.

Will smiled, rising to his feet and moving towards him as he spoke,

"Its title of diocese is, admittedly, in abeyance, but it was never revoked. Ergo, last I checked, this _was_ the Bredelands," He came to a halt just in front of Manny, eyes glinting keenly,

"Or rather, _could_ be again."

He let the words sink in, relieved his friend had given him such a golden opportunity to accept.

"How would that change things?" He quizzed. "Elders would still need to be elected. You'd have your help in months rather than weeks..."

The Regent chuckled, reached for his glass, and dropped back onto the cushions,

"I raised this with the Chancellor before I left," He replied casually. "She informed me that the ancient laws provide a solution; the first elders of a newly instituted diocese can be _nominated _by the Regent, up to six in number, so I'm told."

"What about the rest of us?" He asked. The thought of splitting up the herd hadn't occurred to him; he didn't like it in the slightest.

"It would be a crime to denude this fine region of all of your graces," Will remarked. "And, given your ability to..._appear..._so promptly, I doubt such a minor thing as distance would be a problem."

"Good point," Manny admitted. The more he listened, the more it sounded perfect_._

"You realise I'm gonna have to ask the rest first before giving an answer, right?"

Will emptied his glass,

"I wouldn't wish it any other way. Though I'd prefer it if you came to a decision by sunrise tomorrow, just in case you don't agree; I need to be back in the Council in a fortnight at the latest."

_It's already been decided, _he almost said, but kept it to himself.

"Agreed." He said aloud.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

With hindsight, he realised he forgot two things; first, that nothing is ever truly said in private within the valley.

The second is that word travels _fast_. Granted, the herd already knew it was coming, but the puzzled queries he got from village folk surprised him.

Before he had even left William in the homestead, his radio whirred to life with chatter regarding the offer. As he reached the edge of the village, the telltale flash of light came from the time machine, informing him that visitors from the future had arrived.

By the time he made it to the school building, he was greeted by Keira, the village elders of the _entire _valley, the herd and - much to his surprise, seeing as he set off _before _them, as it were - Sam and Terry.

The look on all their faces spoke for themselves; they already knew. Well, the herd already knew; the surprise was that everyone _else _seemed to know as well.

"Hey guys!" He said jovially. "What's up?"

"Tell me you haven't said yes yet." Frank said bluntly.

_He's playing the part, _he felt relieved. _Good._

"Of course I haven't," He replied. "I told him we all agreed, or none of us did."

"And you guys have until sunrise to decide, right?" Terry said, just as bluntly.

He blinked,

"How did this get here so fast?" He quizzed, glancing about him. "No one but us two were up there!"

"And yet, here we are," Sam replied, smiling. "So, do you feel like explaining?"

"How about I do it?"

Everyone turned in surprise at William's sudden appearance. In the corner of his eye, he spotted Sam and Terry bow slightly before him. The rest of the herd, however, seemed to be mystified at his entrance, which brought out a chuckle from the Regent,

"I learnt long ago to tread lightly," He replied, seemingly gauging their innermost thoughts. "It is a valuable skill to have. It's a valuable skill to have in the political arena."

"I'm sure it is, great hunter like you," Diego remarked dryly, earning a glare from Manny, and an amused smile from Will. "So are either of you gonna explain or not?"

With the Regent offering his proposal once again, Manny made use of the time to look around him the wary look in the village elders' eyes, at the visible - and brilliantly feigned - unease of both Frank and Diego. But it was to the villagers themselves he felt drawn to, specifically to the look of genuine fear in their eyes.

Only then did he realise; for the villagers, their valley had been free, and protected by the herd, for almost a decade...and, as far as they were concerned, it was only safe if the herd were there to defend them. Accepting the offer would change everything for them...

He felt a pang of guilt; they had been so caught up in trying to ensure they found a place to defend the Bredelands from that they had forgotten that the valley needed them too.

_It's a good thing half of us are staying, _he realised.

"Manny?"

Turning his attention back into the present, he straightened himself out,

"Yes?" He asked quickly.

"What do you think on this proposal?" Diego said.

_Careful now_, he thought, _don't be too keen..._

"I...I think we should do it," He said, surprising almost everyone about him.

"Care to explain?" Frank quizzed, even as several _what?_'s could be heard emanating from the village elders.

In the wide, spacious surroundings of the village, he felt instantly cornered by the thousand gazes of fretful villagers.

"I..." He began, eyes eventually falling on Ellie, who shot him an encouraging smile. He reciprocated, feeling strengthened by the sheer _trust _he saw in her at that moment.

"I was told, long ago, that we are the herd that helps...we've never done anything to go against that, and now an entire _nation_ has asked for our help."

He made a point of looking at every face around him,

"Any of you like to disagree?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"But _Mom, _I wanna go with you!"

No matter how hurriedly she rushed about the homestead, Peaches doggedly remained by her side. Behind her, she heard exactly the same chaotic din of preparation, discussion and re-discussions going on, yet Peaches refused to move.

"No means no, sweetie," She replied quickly. "I'm not gonna risk taking you to a strange place."

"But you took me last time!" Peaches whined. "And that was fun-"

"That was _dangerous_! I didn't know what it was gonna be like, and now that I know what's going on up there, it is definitely a no," She stated, chucking in several piles of clothes into a large bag.

"But _mom_-"

"Don't keeping 'Mom'-ing me, young lady!" She cut in, eyes finally raised to meet her daughter's. Peaches looked so keen, so enthusiastic, so disappointed...

She dropped the duffel bag and embraced Peaches close to her,

"I'm sorry, Sweetie," She murmured. "But I'm not sure it's safe for you there. I just wanna make sure first, ok?"

"If it's so unsafe, why are you going, mom? Why not leave it to Daddy, Uncle Frank, Auntie Claire and Uncle Diego?"

She held her daughter tightly, hoping she didn't see the anxiety in her eyes. Nestled deep with her trunk, she stroked her head of hair gently,

"Because they need us there, sweetie," She said softly. "Besides, Mommy needs to make sure Daddy doesn't make an idiot out of himself."

Freed from her mother's embrace, Peaches nodded to herself,

"Ok...I guess," A mischievous smile appeared on her face. "Just make sure Daddy does _some _stupid stuff; they always make the stories more fun to hear."

"I will," Ellie chuckled. "Now go on; Ben wants to train you some more today."

Once upon a time, learning that her daughter was being taught to use a sword would have horrified her, but now - with all the talk of war and impending doom for so much of the lands of the north bouncing around - the thought of her daughter being capable of defending herself brought nothing but relief.

That and - having witnessed Peaches sprinting out of the homestead and down the hill and jumping for joy - she concluded that her daughter had spent enough time around humans and sabres to actually _enjoy _such things.

"Trust me to have a daughter who _wants_ to be a warrior," She mused to herself.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Diego realised Ben and Mark already knew everything he had been telling them. Likewise, he knew he had to tell them, or he would fret about it. Surrounded by similar preparations, he hoped they'd understand,

"Remember, don't go easy on them," He stated. "The militia needs to be as good as they can be! Train them hard, teach them as much as you can, don't allow them to become complacent. Train them every day, and make sure you-"

"Relax, Dee," Mark said. "We both went through the training, we know how it works."

The sabre relaxed slightly, permitting himself a smile,

"I know," He replied. "But one thing you _do _have to be told; these people are your friends, your family...and you need to put it aside when you train them. Going easy on them just because you like them could cost them their lives if something happened."

"We _know _that too," Ben stated. "Don't worry, Diego; they'll be just as tough, trained and fierce when you get back."

Nodding in acceptance, he nonetheless opened his mouth again. As if reading his mind, Mark's paw shot up to still him,

"And we'll keep pestering Sam for guns, we'll keep training them with spears and bows, and we'll just keep keeping on. Don't _worry, _Dee! Now get going, or so help me, I will tackle you into Ian."

"I'd like to see you try," He grinned as he stretched out and grabbed Mark's paw with his own. "Good luck, you two. The militia's yours; don't screw them up."

"We won't," Ben replied, taking Diego's paw himself. "And you, take care of them. Keep mum safe, and try and make sure dad comes back less injured this time."

He chuckled heartily, eyes instinctively drifting over to Frank, who was deep in conversation with Manny and William. He caught sight of Peaches running frantically down the hill, instantly knowing what was going to happen.

"Can't guarantee anything, but I'll try," He replied. "Oh, and Ben? Incoming."

The human cocked his head briefly before being knocked sideways onto the ground.

"BEN! BEN! I WANNA GO TRAINING! I WANNA GO TRAINING!" Peaches shouted, garnering the scrutiny of her father.

"All right! First, gerroffa me!" Ben chuckled, lumbering back onto his feet, his gaze flickering between Manny's inquisitive scowl and Diego. "And let me go get our gear_."_

"Still ok with training her?" He said quietly.

"Yeah," Ben replied as he slowly made his way into the village. "If Manny doesn't mind, then it's a pleasure_!_"

"Just remember, if you train her badly he'll still sit on you!" Diego called out.

Whether Ben heard or not, he kept walking.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Everything that could have been said, discussed or done to avoid leaving had finally finished. Frank couldn't avoid it anymore; they had to leave.

Yet the sight before him practically begged him to stay, with the sun setting gloriously over the valley, bathing both sky and ground in a dazzling array of colours as the dark slowly took hold. He let out a weary sigh, briefly shooting an aside glance at Manny,

"I don't suppose we can cite the need for dinner to stay a little longer, can we?" He said.

"Apparently we can have a massive one on the other side," Manny replied with about as much enthusiasm as he did. "And I know, I know; I was the one who said we should go..."

"No you're not," He stated. "The Remnant told us we were going ten years ago; we only just realised. It's just...these people were trying to save tried to kill us."

"And probably will again," Manny remarked. He turned to look at the mammoth, ensuring he saw his inquisitive expression. The pachyderm shrugged. "Politics. Apparently it can be a fairly deadly game to play in the Bredelands even when it's having a _good_ day, if half of what Will's told me is true."

He snapped his head around to the setting sun, drinking up the serene, peaceful, _non-deadly_ sights before him. Resting his hand on the hilt of his sword, he began to wonder how much he would have to use it in the days and weeks to come.

"Wonderful," He replied flatly. "That's just _brilliant_."

Diego's presence was sensed rather than seen as the sabre came up beside them. He turned slightly, nodded, and turned back to the darkening sky.

"I take it you've come to say we're ready to go."

It wasn't a question, and the sabre simply nodded,

"Pretty much."

Manny's trunk gently wrapped around his shoulder, slowly dragging him from the sight of the land he didn't really want to leave. He let out a sigh, clutching his hilt tightly,

"All right then, let's get this over with." He grumbled.

Having already said their goodbyes, he was still surprised to find Keira, Mark, Sid, the possums, Peaches and Ben waiting for them. Having hugged, patted, playfully punched and shook hands through the farewell party, he hopped onto Ian, noting the somewhat subdued atmosphere of its inhabitants.

For him, it was exemplified by Buck subtly checking his pistol, before placing it back on his back beside the recently sharpened knife as the weasel sat in the passenger seat.

Settling himself behind the steering wheel, he took one last chance to memorise what his valley looked like.

"Is everyone ready?"

Wordlessly, those who were heading for the Bredelands either jumped into the truck, or placed trunks upon it. His eyes were still on the valley below them, on the trails of smoke from countless fires, on the smattering of lights, on the homeliness of it all.

_Goodbye, _he said, snatching his eyes away for what felt like the last time.

"Ian?" He asked.

_"Yes, Frank?"_ The truck replied.

"Let's go. Senweca please."

He closed his eyes as the light enveloped them, picturing the valley in his mind's eye.

_Goodbye._

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

**End of chapter 6**

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

**And here's the part where you can do me a huge favour; I want to hear what you guys think! Did you enjoy it? Do you have any **_**constructive **_**tips on how to make this better? Then please review! (It's that tasty, juicy little button below, in case you're wondering :P)**

**Hope you all have a great May, and I look forward to hearing from you!**

**Till chapter 7, peace out**


	7. Mists and Shadows

**Hello everyone!**

**Thank you for your reviews, and thank you for still reading! I shan't bore you, as there's not much to say so, without further ado...**

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The sun shone brightly in its clear blue sky, bathing the immense Council chambers in a seemingly luminescent glow in the mid morning mists. Every elder - human and animal alike - from the hundred and seven dioceses had come out to witness the event, along with most of the UNTC's upper command. Thousands of people stood, sat, chatted and laughed between themselves as they waited.

Even Justice Helen Johnson had attended, her silver hair framing one of the most poised and composed - almost regal - faces he had ever witnessed at an execution...

_An execution. _He had been so distracted by the beauty of the day that he forgot its grisly nature.

Theo - freshly bandaged and stronger than she had been just days before, though still thinner and more gaunt than he remembered her - sat on the Chancellor's Chair, eyes fixed on the chamber's entrance on the far side from her. Flanked beside her were Sam and Terry on her left, with Mark, Claire and Max on her right. Below her seat, William and Roshan stood sentry.

A glint in the corner of his eye tore him away from the imposing sight. Frank stood there, still as stone, hands holding a sword that seemed almost comically sized in his hands.

Nothing could be less funny as he stared at the sword; he never expected, when he had it made for Peaches, that it would be used like this.

_It's never been used before like this; _he thought with a pang of...what was it? Sadness? Relief that it hadn't been used in such a way? When he had asked for it to be made, it never occured to him that, one day, it would be used to behead traitors.

He didn't know. All he knew is that it would be blooded again before the sun was high in the sky; he was thankful it wasn't Peaches who would wield it.

"Honoured guests, honourable elders, pray silence," Theo's voice seemed quiet, yet it carried through the whole chamber, ushering in an attentive hush. "Breda taught us that we should love justice, and hate evil. Today we shall bring justice, and thus bring the evil that has hung over us these months to an end." She nodded to Max, who nodded in return.

The sabre took a step forward,

"BRING FORTH THE PRISONERS!" He roared.

For a moment, he couldn't spot the prisoners amongst the swarm of human and animal guards.

Whether from the distance, or the size of some of their guards, when he finally saw the humans they looked positively tiny. All eyes followed their staggering, faltering movements in deathly silence, showing him naught but judgement in their gazes.

"Traitors!" A voice cried out. "Traitors!"

Like fire to kindling, the chamber erupted in shouts of _TRAITORS! TRAITORS! DEATH! DEATH_! Human and animal alike joined in the shouts aimed at the would-be assassins of their leaders and would-be murderers of the peace that was still so young.

The prisoners kept moving, eyes fixed to the ground, seemingly deaf to the roar aimed their way.

Manny knew otherwise; as they limped past, he saw the fear in their eyes.

He also saw their bones showing through their skin. _They've been starved, _he realised.

If anyone else had seen it, they didn't show it. The humans' guards forced them onto their knees. Witnessing it, Theo raised her paw.

The chambers were silenced in an instant.

The old tigress simply stared at them; no anger, or resentment, or even hate could he see in her eyes. Part of him felt glad for that; granted, she would still decree death, but at least it was done out of a semblance of justice, not of hate.

Looking around, though, he couldn't say the same of most of the elders present.

Especially the humans.

It didn't surprise him, though; the men kneeling for all to see had tried to kill Roshan, William and very nearly succeeded in killing Theo...trying all the while to frame humanity in the process.

Had they been successful, he knew the 'lands would have warred itself into near-extinction; the brief glimpse he had had of the world they aimed to create taught him as much.

"Humans, you are charged with treason, conspiracy to murder the rightful leaders of the Bredelands with the intent of causing a civil war and of actually attempting as much. Your crimes have been weighed in the sight of Breda, and the Regents have reached a decision on behalf of the People and Council of the realm. Regent William, Regent Roshan, are these men guilty of the crimes they are accused of?"

"They are, Chancellor." Both Regents replied firmly.

"And what have the Regents decided should be their punishment?" Theo stated.

"Death, Chancellor." They said.

The cacophonous roars of joy were silenced in an instant by Theo's paw.

"Breda takes no joy in death," She began. "But justice must be done for the lives we lost to these treacheries. Therefore, do any of you have any final words to say?"

Four of the five men remained stubbornly silent. The fifth - the leader, he presumed - lifted his sunken eyes, seemingly staring past Theo. Following the man's line of sight, he found himself staring at Sam.

"The Remnant shall rise again." He murmured.

This time Theo did nothing to stop the shouting, allowing people the spectacle she knew they desired. Justice, she called it.

_A show, _he decided.

William and Roshan made their way down the stairs as the guards held the humans down. To their credit, the humans did nothing to resist; in fact, they stretched out their necks and awaited their deaths with a patience he didn't expect to see in condemned men. Frank gave the Regent a bow as Will took the sword from him, holding it up to the light as if to ascertain it's sharpness from sight.

The roar of excitement suggested otherwise.

Roshan drew his own sword, the blade practically sounding as sharp as it looked. The crowd was baying for blood, whether for justice or just bloodlust, he was no longer sure.

_These are the supposed great and the good, _he thought, heart sinking in his chest.

Of its own accord, the chamber fell silent as the swords rested gently upon two of the men's necks, as if everyone held their breath. Both Regents paused for a moment, heightening the anticipation to such a point that it was almost palpable.

_All a show._

A mere moment later, the Regents lifted their swords. William struck down with such force that the sword dug several inches into the ground as the first man's head rolled away.

The elders cheered as each man's blood drenched the dirt around their twitching bodies, and roared their approval as each head was held aloft in turn for all to see.

_It is done, _he thought, closing his eyes. The attempt on Theo's, William's and Roshan's life had been paid for in blood.

_The Remnant will rise again. _The man's defiant statement still echoed in his ears even as his head began to pound fiercely.

All around him, the elders were cheering gleefully at their idea of justice.

He needed a drink...or to throw up.

He wasn't sure which.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"That _wasn't_ justice," He growled into his drink later that day, safely back in the modern day, in the corner of the pub, surrounded by friends and far from the blood-soaked floors of the Council chambers. "Did you see the elders? If I could only hear them, I would've thought they were cheering on a team, not watching men die."

"If those men had succeeded, the death toll would have been catastrophic as word got out that _humans _killed us," Will retorted. "These men almost killed Theo and Ben, and would have killed myself and Roshan. Why should we have let them live if their actions would have killed so many?"

"William is right," Roshan added. "It is better they died than millions."

"I remember another time that argument was made," He replied, levelling a stare at Roshan first, then William. "Something about killing a human hunter on top of Halstead Pass."

"That was different, and you know it." Will replied, his gaze hardening.

"Is it?" He shot back.

They battled silently through staring alone, dragging the entire table into silence.

"Perhaps not," Will conceded in a tone that suggested otherwise. "Tell me, _Manfred_, did you have such qualms when you executed Soto?"

He blinked in surprise, unable to respond. Till then, Frank had remained silent, preferring to savour his drink than get involved.

He didn't even need to look at Frank to know how he took it; he heard the glass slam onto the table.

"We didn't execute him," Frank said with a menacing quietness. "We gave him a chance to save his life, and he tried to take mine-"

"And, after he smashed your face into a rock, what happened then, Frank?" Will replied. "Surely the _guardians _wouldn't stoop so low as to cut his throat, arrange a firing line and then proceed to riddle him with bullets?" His face was so stern it almost looked to be made of stone. "Except that was _exactly _what you did. Don't dare think you can look down on us in this matter; our time is a harsh one, and sometimes it requires harsh measures, something you yourselves have proved numerous times."

Silence greeted the words, but not necessarily sullen; Frank nodded slightly, returning to his drink whilst he shuffled uncomfortably.

William was not wrong; from an outside perspective, they _had _executed Soto...after slaughtering thousands of people whilst defending thousands more.

The thought that only his allegiances had saved him from the fate he witnessed that morning struck him like a thunderbolt.

_Those men died for killing a few. If I found myself against the Bredelands, they would..._

It didn't bear thinking about.

"That was the first of many such executions," William said in a tone that brooked no argument. "Those who tried to drag the Bredelands down will pay the due they expected the rest of us to. They will pay with their blood."

"This is so." Roshan stated, drawing the argument to a close.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

That afternoon's session in the courtroom felt restrained from the beginning, as if Helen had had her fill of justice for the day. Even so, he found himself in the witness stand, smiling slightly at the sea of faces before him that he had become so used to seeing.

He knew the drill by now; always there were a few of the peaked caps staring back at him were new but, whilst some liked to changed about, most remained doggedly in the same seat every day. He spotted the old man with a scowl instead of a mouth, the she-bear with a patch instead of an eye; the bright eyed twenty-something whose mouth silently mouthed a prayer whenever he turned his attention to him...

"Manny," Helen said, dragging him out of his thoughts. She smiled and made a graceful gesture with her hand. "I see no need to stand on ceremony nor perform to impress; we'd like your testimony, please."

She sunk into her seat as he nodded. The person she normally was had seemingly been subsumed by weariness.

Just a brief glimpse into her eyes gave him his answer; she had never seen anyone die before today.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Dozens of eyes followed them as they marched themselves up the stairs to the nearest seats, all of them confused as to their presence.

Hundreds of eyes fixed on them as they took their places, followed by the hum of hundreds of voices whispering to each other.

Manny knew some of the elders were looking at him, probably muttering something about the son of Clovis; the rest were staring at the _humans _that had taken a seat amongst them. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing anxiously at Frank and Claire before leaning over,

"Whatever you do, don't speak, ok?" He murmured quietly.

Frank shot him a look,

"I'm not blind, Manny; I see that they're looking. Don't worry, today we'll play nice and only speak when spoken to."

It had been hard enough to convince Frank - and _Buck_, for that matter - that weapons wouldn't be permitted in the Council chambers. To his immense relief, he sat back, knowing the human was sufficiently disarmed and quiet enough that - with some luck - nothing untoward could happen.

No one spoke to them, though he could tell that most of the conversations around themselves were _about _them. He paid it no heed and hoped Max would soon be forthcoming.

He let out the breath he had been holding in when the sabre finally appeared.

"Honoured and noble Elders, please rise for William of the Three Gorges, Regent of the eigh- _ninety_ dioceses, by the Grace of Breda and in her stead, leader of the Council of Elders and of the People, and for Theodora of the Westernesse Valleys, Chancellor of the same!"

Shocked whispers ricocheted through the chamber at the declaration. Even as he clambered to his feet, waiting in respectful silence for the pair to take their places, he could feel more and more eyes falling upon them. The Regent had a knowing smile on his face; for the first time since he had met this version of the friend he had known all his life, William looked _almost _happy.

"Please be seated," Theo called out, only partly silencing the hum. "Before we begin in earnest this day, I would like to call upon Regent William to speak."

The din of whispering grew as a few of the nearer elders shot them disgruntled looks. William, seemingly oblivious to the simmering displeasure about him, seemed to swagger to his stand. He lifted his trunk, as if in pleading,

"Honourable elders of the Bredelands, if I may ask for silence," Begrudgingly, they granted his request. "I realise that the declaration this day may have taken many of you unawares, but the honourable Master of the Chancellor's Guard did not make a mistake; may I introduce Manfred, Francis, Claire, Buckminster, Diego and Eleanor, newly appointed elders for the _re-instituted _diocese of Val do Resto."

A sloth he faintly recognised jumped up from his seat on the other side of the chamber as the immense space filled with the roar of shouting.

"ORDER!" Theo yelled. "ORDER! May I remind the Council that you are _elders_, not children! The Council recognises Advocate Samuel to speak!"

"Thank you Chancellor!" Samuel shouted over the din. "Honourable Regent, it is troubling to me that you did not deign to consult the Council on this matter! On what grounds did you create this diocese?"

"On the rights and privileges granted by the office of Regent did I _renew _this diocese." William replied sternly.

"As _Regent?_" Samuel parroted to the din of approving jeers from his side of the chamber. "Must I remind the honourable Regent opposite that only the kings of old deigned to presume they could create and dissolve dioceses at will?"

"ORDER!" Theo roared as both sides of the chamber threw insults at the other.

_Maybe this wasn't such a great idea, _he reflected. The Council had sounded noble in principle.

But the more he saw of it in practice, the more he began to wonder just how noble it truly was.

"Honourable Advocate!" William yelled, quelling the noise slightly. "It is a cruelty you do me! I have not created a new diocese; I have merely re-instated it."

"And when did the diocese of the Val do Resto _ever _exist, honourable Regent?" Samuel practically spat back.

William smiled thinly, his eyes narrowing as if focussed on prey.

"If I am not mistaken, the honourable Advocate has forgotten our history!" He shouted to roars of amusement. "It was the Val do Resto that held the Council-in-exile, during the Dark Times of the First Kings. It was a diocese then, and its status has never been revoked!"

A few shocked gasps went up as some of the elders witnessed Samuel - and a few of the elders about him - snort.

"Honourable Regent, those stories have been transmitted through oral retelling for generations immemorial," He replied. "If these stories are as old as they claims to be, they have had over a thousand _years _to be changed and altered," The sloth looked about him, pointing a claw at Will. "The Council still remembers the last time the Regent used these stories to get his way, just to get these people here! Now he wishes to use the same stories to give these people _power_ over our lands! People who, by their own admission, did not know anything of the 'lands before the set foot here, save its name and size!"

"Seeing as all of our traditions - including this Council and the office of _Advocate_ - are based upon our history being _true_, is the honourable Advocate truly suggesting we should ignore the Regent's statements because the history may be faulty?" Theo asked pertinently.

The disdain was silenced, but not erased. Samuel - for one, brief moment - bristled, as if he were to argue the point. Eventually he bowed and smiled,

"The Chancellor is wise. I will confess I forgot myself for a moment there; I have been too long in the company of my diocese's people. Such common viewpoints are ill befitting such a noble institution as thus, and I shall not pursue it," He turned to look at Will, giving him a glare behind the easy smile he wore. "If our history grants the Regent the means to do this, then I shan't object any further. I gladly greet and welcome our new brethren from the Val do Resto. May I ask them some questions, Chancellor?"

He was already on his feet before Theo gave a wary nod, aware of all the eyes that he could see.

"Elder Manfred, if I may," The Advocate said breezily. "How far away is your diocese?"

"Ah...about four hundred miles, I guess."

"Four _hundred _miles," Samuel repeated, a disdainful smile painted on his face. "And what border of the 'lands does it connect to?"

"None; we're four hundred miles south-west of Porcupine Gorge."

"I see...and how does one plan on getting to the Council? It must take several weeks _at least _to get to and fro. How ever will you live amongst your people?"

"I-" He cut himself off, unsure of how much to say, how to say it, or why he should even be saying it.

"Shall I answer for you?" Samuel replied, his smile turning into a sneer. "Do you, or do you not, travel by magic? I had the privilege of welcoming you to these 'lands half a year ago; I recall you appeared with some strange contraption and promptly disappeared into thin air-"

"What are you trying to imply, Advocate?" Theo cut in sharply.

"I imply nothing, Chancellor. I am merely asking questions," He said.

His queries had already worked, though; Manny could see the wary glances being cast their way.

_He's making us out to be dangerous, _he realised.

"May I continue my questioning, Chancellor?"

"As you wish." Theo said slowly.

"My thanks...Elder Manfred, how many people reside in this...valley?"

"About forty thousand."

The disdain on his face seemed to grow with every answer. All around him the looks turned from fear into mockery. He had always been big; ever since he was a child he was large.

At that moment, he felt almost tiny in the eyes of the elders around him.

_Let's change that. _He knew he shouldn't reveal everything he was going to, but he felt he had no choice; if they were going to defend the Bredelands from Cartwright, they _had _to be respected at least,

"We're an advanced society, with permanent towns and villages we can weather both summer and winter in, fields of crops providing us with more food we can eat and technology you couldn't even _dream_ of," He said quickly. "We have weapons that could kill in an instant and the ability to go wherever we want to _faster _than we can kill. We have a standing militia of hundreds who are trained daily and we have _thousands _who are eager to join it. We are more than capable of dealing with threats, just as we are willing to help these 'lands wherever we can."

The mockery, the disdain... _everything _the Advocate tried to pin on them seemed to melt away in the eyes around him. Fear, respect, doubt - even some admiration and excitement - was all he could see now. But he focussed in on Samuel's eyes, hoping he did not miss the warning wedged in between the boasts;

_Don't mess with us, buddy, _he thought at the sloth, _or you'll regret it._

Samuel opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again, seemingly lost for words.

"If your diocese is as you claim, honourable elder, and you have such wonders, why would you be so willing to share them with these 'lands?"

Manny smiled thinly,

"Because, last I checked, we are part of these 'lands. We're not in the habit of refusing to help for our own ends."

The Advocate hid his anger well behind the smile, but it was there for all to see,

"My thanks, honourable elder." The sloth promptly sat down.

"Very good. Now, on to our next motion..." Theo stated.

Taking his seat, Manny sat and listened, happy in the knowledge that - for now - the herd's place on the Council was safe.

_For how long, though? _He asked himself.

He frowned and listened to the Chancellor, unwilling to admit to himself that he had no answer.

"Psst."

He glanced about him, eyeing Frank and the rest of the herd oddly. No one responded, so he turned back to the boar that was speaking.

"Psst. Elder Manfred."

He looked again, began turning back, and finally spotted the bird perched on his shoulder. The bird took a quick bow,

"My lord William requests that the elders of the Val do Resto join him after the Council draws to a close for supper."

He shot a glance ahead at the Regent, and turned back to the bird. He suddenly realised he was starving.

"Tell him we will."

"Very good m'lord," The bird replied. "He shall be expecting you at the base of the Chancellor's Chair, from whence he shall lead you to his chambers."

With that, the bird flittered off, leaving Manny more confused than ever; in the world of politics, nothing came free.

Not even a dinner with an old friend.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

When he had informed the others of their dinner plans, the response was mixed; Ellie was happy, Claire was satisfied, but Frank, Buck and Diego feared an evening where salad was the only option on the menu. Again.

All such fears were dashed the moment dinner was revealed to be cow. Lots of cow. Almost too much cow. He saw plenty of greenery to be eaten as well, but it was dwarfed by the cow.

The carnivores were overjoyed at the sight.

"Where did you _get_ this?" Frank whispered in awe bordering on reverential as several of the Regent's guards cut sliced up the cow, skewered it, and placed it over the fire.

The Regent's grin was positively beaming,

"I knew you would approve!" He said. "As you can imagine, a society where herbivores and carnivores live in peace wouldn't last as long as dinnertime without an ample supply of meat from somewhere, and it just so happens our ancestors found a solution. This cow is from one of the massive herds we keep of unthinking animals."

"_Non-_sentient?" Frank remarked, evidently confused. "You mean there actually _are _non-sentient species around?"

"Are you truly that surprised to discover this?" William replied. "Surely it should be the greater surprise that _sentience _exists, not the other way around."

Diego looked up at Manny,

"We have got to get ourselves one of these herds," He stated.

The debates about the sentience - or otherwise - of species died down as soon as the meat was ready to be eaten. Only then did he remember that, in the near-week they had been there - the three meat-eaters before him hadn't enjoyed any meat; it was rude to eat one's hosts, after all.

"I hope everything is to your tastes?" Will said.

Contented grunts issued forth from the meat-eaters. Even he, Claire and Ellie were enjoying a surprisingly large - and tasty - array of fruit and vegetables. They nodded in thanks.

"Good!" Will smiled. "I hope you don't mind if I yabber on whilst we eat?"

He suspected there was pretext under such an innocuous sentence.

The moment his gaze met Will's, he knew he was right.

"Your valley...If I may be so bold Manny, is it worth the terrible risk I put myself through today? Is it as you say it is?" Will quizzed.

_In the world of politics, nothing comes free._

"Yeah," Manny said as he tore off a bit of celery. "It is. Hell, give us ten, maybe fifteen years, and the Bredelands would look utterly different."

"Truly?" Will raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Woadf," Frank's voice was muffled through the meat. "Builthingf that can ftand through winfer. Cwopth, militawy twaining..." He swallowed. "You name it; chances are we can make a difference to it."

"This is a large and fertile land, yet we struggle during the winter to find food and shelter for our three million people," Will stated, eyeing them intently.

Frank gave him a knowing smirk,

"Regent, we're a small valley of forty thousand people...but we produce enough food to feed _three hundred thousand. _That's in a valley not too dissimilar in size to Senweca."

Will nodded in satisfaction, the gleam in his eye suggesting he is imagining being hailed as William the Great, Provider of Food.

_He's a politician; he wants others to have a good opinion of him. _If he were honest, he couldn't blame the old mammoth.

"Very good...yes, very good," And that was that. Will ripped a lettuce leaf to shreds, and slumped back. "I must apologise for the Advocate's behaviour today; sometimes he gets a little too..._involved_ in his role. The role of the Advocate is to act as a form of opposition to the Regent, to ensure that anything the Regent proposes will be sufficiently tested and argued over. It's a useful office, though Samuel lets it get to his head a bit too much...the cheek he had! Implying I was pretending to be some king? Bah!" He threw a bit of lettuce to the floor and glared at it. "That sloth has always been a bane to me. His forebear was much better in the role."

"Sloths _can _be annoying sometimes," Manny conceded. "But I'm sure he's not all bad; ours definitely isn't, once you get past the urge to punch-"

"Speaking of kings..." Frank said, cutting through his comment. "There seems to be a lot about your history we don't know."

"Such as?" Will queried, earning him a smile from the human.

"All of it, truth be told." Frank admitted.

"Ha!" Will barked in amusement. "I guess that figures, given who you are...but it would be a long time in explaining; our history is almost two thousand years long!"

"And mostly fake, if I heard the sloth correctly." Diego said before chewing at the cow's bone to get at the marrow.

"Pfft, Samuel claims wisdom, but knows nothing," Will said dismissively. "Some of the stories told amongst the people, I grant you, are nothing but silly superstitions, but our history is _fact_."

"How can you know that?" Diego replied. "Two thousand years of parents telling their children these stories isn't exactly the best way of passing them down accurately. If you've ever played a whispering game, you'd know this."

"True enough," Will conceded. "But our history is not passed on by whispers."

The statement drew almost all of them away from their food out of curiosity,

"What do you mean?" Frank asked.

Will pursed his lips, eyes darting quickly to the entrance of his cave,

"It is better to show you this than merely to tell you," He murmured quietly. "Once you have finished eating, go back to your camp and wait till after dark. I will meet you by the caves to the south of the Council chambers - the site of your human prisoner's cell, if you recall - when the moon rises."

Confused silence rippled through the place.

"Why the secrecy?" Diego quizzed. "Why not just tell us now? We're all here; just us, you and your guards."

"I...please trust me on this."

Diego smirked at him, raising an eyebrow back at the Regent,

"What makes you think we care _that _much about history?"

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They waited by the caves' many entrances bathed only in the light of their flickering torch. The stars above flickered coldly in the distance for a time, before some of them vanished behind the moon's glow. They sat there, stood there, paced there...

The Regent was nowhere to be seen.

"Remind me to introduce Will to the concept of being on time when we see him." Frank remarked.

"Or just give him a watch." Diego mused.

He slowed to a stop, sending a wearied glance at Ellie, who was busy peering into the gloom around them.

"Do you see him?" He asked.

"Nope...wait," She leaned forward, eyes narrowing. Her head snapped around, her voice stilled to a whisper. "Someone's coming!"

Everyone turn to watch as the darkness slowly morphed into the figure of William.

"Finally!" Buck stated. "Do you know 'ow long we've been waiting 'ere?"

The Regent didn't answer, opting instead for a quick, wary scan of his surroundings.

"It couldn't be helped," He murmured, eyes still wandering. "I only just got away from a very long and..._Informative..._meeting with the Chancellor."

He knew it was a lie. Everyone present, the skies, even the rocks themselves knew it was a lie. Something had rattled the old mammoth badly enough for the consummate politician to turn into a bad liar...

But it was too late, and he was too tired, to dispute it.

"Why are we here, Will?"

The Regent snapped out of his intense searching to look upon the cliffs towering over them. In the flickering light, his smile took on an almost ghoulish quality.

"I said I would show you how we know our past to be true," He said, looking at each herd member in turn. "And, whilst I'm at it, to give you a history lesson."

"By bringing us to a cave?" Diego said.

Will chuckled to himself as he walked further down the wall. Curious, the herd followed him until he came to a halt, several cave entrances down from the one they had stood at.

Manny peered at the entrance with interest, noting how close it was to the one Roshan was kept in. The Regent seemed to sense all of their curiosities - and confusions.

"These 'lands are almost two thousand years old," He said. "And much of our history has faded into myth for the people whose day-to-day lives are only faintly affected by the Council."

"Yeah, but why are you bringing us to a _cave?_" Diego pressed.

"We have preserved our history, with the help of Breda," Will replied, gesturing towards the cave. "Do you really think we only use these caves for _prisoners_?"

Before anyone could object, the older mammoth vanished into the pitch black of the cave. One by one, the herd followed; Frank, who bore the torch, went first, with Manny leading the rear.

Though it was a tight squeeze, he managed to fit through the passage, only occasionally scraping the ceiling or the walls.

_It's been chiselled, _he realised.

_How many of these caves did they make? _Even such capabilities were beyond his little valley, short of asking for drills from Sam...

Not for the first time did he wonder how the Bredelands managed to achieve so much with so little to hand.

He snapped back into the present as the walls and ceiling gave way to a relatively low-ceilinged long hall, stretching beyond the pale of light the torch provided. Out of the dark Will appeared, brandishing a stick.

The gloom flickered away slowly as the second torch came to life. Bit by bit, the room was revealed...to be a room.

"Um...ok," Diego murmured. "...why are we here?"

William smiled,

"Look a little closer, m'lords."

True to form, Frank was the first to move towards the walls, staring in confusion for a long moment. As he drifted towards another part of the wall, the violent jerk of the light dragged his attention back to Frank.

The human's eyes were wide with confusion as he stepped back from the wall.

"That's...not possible..." He murmured.

"What?" Manny queried.

Frank turned to him and gestured to the wall,

"Have a closer look, and tell me something isn't wrong with this picture."

Close up to the wall, he scanned the contents,

_And it was so that the army, on hearing her words, grew enraged and attacked the Regent. And Theodora died and was gathered to her ancestors. Thus it was so that the Council no longer held sway in the Bredelands, and Julius issued a proclamation unto all four corners of the Bredelands, that he has become their king..._

_Wait. _It had grown so natural to him it didn't stand out at first.

"Those are words!" He exclaimed, looking incredulously at Frank, Buck and William in turn. "Those are genuine words!"

"Not just words," Frank replied. "_English. _That's _English_."

"'ow the 'ell did English get 'ere?" Buck asked.

"How else do you think it got here? _Magic carpet_?" Diego retorted. "You _know _how it got here."

"You don't mean..." Ellie mustered, eyes widening at the thought.

"He means _exactly_ that," Frank stated through gritted teeth. "But what interests me is William here said this is here _with the help of Breda."_

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"My apologies for interrupting, but I wish to clarify; did you just say you found entire stone walls carved with _English_?" Helen's tone was as incredulous as the look in her eyes.

Manny nodded,

"Yeah, English. We were a bit confused too."

"Did you have an explanation as to how a modern language appeared?" Helen probed.

Almost instinctively, he turned his gaze to Sam. As if burdened by the weight of his gaze, she slumped in her chair, intently avoiding his eyes.

"We had some theories, your honour," He murmured, his stare never leaving Sam. "Correction, we had _a _theory. We all suspected the same thing..."

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"...but that can wait for another day," Manny muttered as he scanned the walls. "We should get Sid down here to write this all down."

"Why? It's not like this is going anywhere." Diego replied.

"True," He admitted. "But I'd like to know what it says...and I'd like to know _without _having to come into a dark cave every time I want to read it."

"What _does _it say?" Frank asked, turning to Will. "I doubt you'd be showing us this if it was just history."

Will chuckled,

"No, it isn't _just _history," He said. "It is _also_ a compendium of prophecies and promises and visions of things yet to come."

The looks they gave the walls changed in an instant.

No longer was it just a history of the lands they now lived in; if their hunch as to who was behind it was true, it was also packed full of things they _really _need to know.

"We need to get this down, and soon." Buck surmised.

"Would it be worth getting Sid down here now?" Claire said aloud.

He stared at her,

"It's the _middle of the night._" He replied.

"It's a _book _in cave form, comprising history he has never read, spanning _thousands_ of _years_," Claire answered. "We all know Sid would cut off his left leg if he had to, just to be _near_ it. He wouldn't care about sleep the moment he knows this exists, and we can get to find out what this says as early as _tomorrow._"

Words failed him when he wanted to object. Ellie shrugged, Diego did nothing, Frank smiled slightly and Buck simply grinned in agreement. He rolled his eyes,

"Ok fine," He muttered. "Someone go get Sid. And some torches for this room; Sid's not gonna appreciate writing in the dark."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

He had never seen Sid's eyes so wide. The sloth didn't seem to care that he had been awoken and dragged through space and time; as Claire stated, all he saw was a book.

"It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Sid murmured in awe. "And you thought of _me _when you saw it? Thanks guys!"

"You're welcome," Frank replied. "How long do you think you'll need to copy all of this?"

"I'll have something for you by lunch," The sloth replied. "Just get me a pen, ink, paper, a comfortable chair and a desk."

"And a bar, whilst we're at it?" Diego said dryly. "Or a buffet table?"

"Them too, if you got any. Pen, paper, table and chair more important though." Sid replied, earning him a smile from the sabre.

In the end, the only materials they could find in the truck was a pen and some paper.

The sloth didn't seem to care though; he thanked them, got to work and bid them all goodnight. The moon bathed everything in its silky, ghostly glow, rendering everything it touched into something hauntingly beautiful.

The mood around the fire as they settled in for the night was subdued, as if the sheer effort of thought seemed to drain all else from the six of them.

"We're in over our heads," Frank muttered.

"We're always in over our heads," Diego pointed out.

"Yeah, but all the other times we had simple solutions; fight, stay alive, survive. This is different," Frank replied. "One the one side, we have the Remnant, on the other the UNTC. In the middle are the humans and the Bredelands, and _every, single one _of those groups have layers upon layers of hidden agendas...I wouldn't be surprised if even their _secrets_ have secrets."

"What would you 'ave us do?" Buck chipped in. "It's not like we can walk up to the Remnant and ask what they 'ave planned."

"No...But we can ask the humans," Diego said.

Everyone turned to look at him, Manny most of all. The sabre's plan was plain to see on his face, and the pachyderm didn't like it one bit.

"You _can't_ be serious about that. You want to send people _north? _Beyond the wall? Are you insane?"

"You got a better idea?" The sabre retorted. "Frank's right; we're in over our heads. We need as much information as we can get, and that usually means scouting what the enemy is doing. What better way to do that than ask the people the enemy is controlling? We need to know what we're facing."

The discussion continued for a while longer, until weariness seemed to infect everyone, and sleep drew them to bed. Yet sleep did not come, not matter how much he wanted it to take him; there were just too many questions swirling in his head, too many decisions demanding thought for his brain to switch off.

_Too many questions._

He lumbered to his feet as quietly as possibly, crept out of the cave, and stood there, eyeing the evanescence of the moonlit land. He glanced about him, arbitrarily chose a direction to walk, and set off. Only he seemed to be awake, judging by the near perfect silence, broken only by the muted rusting of the wind in the trees. Before too long, he found himself at the edge of a cliff, the lands of the Wildernesse Plains stretching out as far as the eye could see below him. He took a deep breath, and let his mind wander.

He didn't know how much time had passed before the faint echo of voices travelled across the wind. It was so faint, he wouldn't have heard it if the lands around him were not so still. Intrigued who else was awake at such a time, he slowly edged his way around the cliff, careful to avoid the edge.

"...was a fool to bring them here..." He made out, the voice strangely familiar.

He saw the guards first. He counted seven of them, some armed with spears; he spotted sabres, bears, an ox...and humans.

Alarm bells rang in his head; there were only four humans in the Bredelands, and none of them were before him.

Treading as softly as he could, he peeked about a rock cleft to get a better look.

It took all his will not to gasp as he recognised the sloth and the tigress standing beside him, speaking with a shrouded figure who was unmistakably a human.

The black cloak told him instantly what he was looking at.

"These new elders need to be eliminated," Advocate Samuel stated, looking up at the human. "They could derail the agreement we have with Alaric."

"Leave them to me," The human growled from the shadow."The council of shadows has already put their plans in motion."

"And how is the council going to deal with the six that are here?" Cassandra of Half Peak, quizzed.

The shadow rumbled with a chuckle, barely concealing his amusement,

"Accidents happen..."

Manny's heart skipped a beat as the shadow turned. Though he could not see the human's eyes, he somehow knew he was looking at him.

"...is that not so, Manfred?"

Spears and claws suddenly surrounded him, prodding and threatening him out from behind his rock. He cried out in pain as several spears broke the skin. Bleeding, he came to a halt before the human and Cassandra - both eyeing him calmly - whilst Samuel broke out into a sweat.

"Y-you," The Advocate stammered. "How much did you hear?"

He shot the sloth a glare,

"Enough to know you're a traitor," He spat back. "Why do you want to destroy these 'lands so badly?"

"I'm _saving _the Bredelands," Samuel replied fiercely. "Saving it from the destruction you and your precious _regent_ would heap upon it."

The human chuckled. Beneath the black hood, he saw a slight hint of eyes,

"Pay heed to the sloth, Manfred; he knows the true outcome of this game that is underway," He followed the human with his eyes as he moved to the edge of the cliff, looked down, and chuckled. "Alas that you did not seek to find this information out at a..._safer _...location." The human nodded.

For a few moments, he did not understand; all he felt were spears and claws slicing away at him. He edged away from them, he managed to swipe two of the human guards with his tusks, but it was no use; surrounded on three sides, he found himself edging in the only direction he could.

Only when he nearly lost his balance as he inadvertently backed out onto thin air did he understand.

"You'll never get away with this!" He shouted out defiantly, eyes fixed on Samuel. "Even if you kill me, every plan you've put in place will fail and you will suffer for it!"

"We shall see, _Guardian,_" The human replied, flicking his wrist dismissively. "Let's finish this."

Spears pierced him from three directions, forcing him backwards...

He did not scream; he wouldn't give them that pleasure. All too suddenly, his stomach lurched and his world seemed to speed by him. He held his wits about him and looked where he was going, realising the cliff's walls to be sloped.

He would have been relieved of such a - relatively - gentle landing, were it not covered in rock outcroppings.

In a brief instant, he felt pain sear through him and screams fill the air before the darkness took him.

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**End of Chapter 7**

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**What did you think? I really enjoy hearing all your reviews, all the good and the constructive criticism, everything except a flame!**

**Go on...click the button...you know you want to...**

**Till chapter 8,**

**Cheerio!**


	8. Lost Innocence

**Hello everyone!**

**Firstly thank you for all the reviews! It's great to hear from you all :) - and, since you don't have a profile, thank you Mwang for your review as well!**

**Just a little correction to make; I realised only after publishing chapter 7 that it states that Peaches' sword had never been used. It has been tweaked, thus we have no continuity error! (Some of you are probably wondering why I say it here...well...read on :P) **

**Oh, and in order to make things clearer, since I realised I haven't mentioned it yet;**

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**If I use a doubled up scene breaker, as pictured above and below, then the events happening between them are set in the past.**

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**There, now that I have gotten all that out of the way, and without further ado...**

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He found himself sprinting. He did not know where he came from, where he was going, or even _why _he was sprinting, but he didn't care. He leapt over fallen trees and babbling brooks, savouring the sweet, sweet smells of earth and forest and prey.

_I can run, _Diego realised, grinning like an idiot as he skidded to a stop. He glanced down at his leg, whole and present, flexing it gleefully. It had to have all been a nightmare; Alaric, the loss of his leg, the Bredelands, all of it.

It had to be; how else could his leg be there?

So he ran as hard and fast as he could, without a care in the world. He broke out of the forest into a wide open plain, revealing the sun in all its glory. But the world around him began to change; the trees behind him began to morph into armies and militias, some of them bearing the faces of his friends and family. Ahead of him a lone tree, gnarled and black, sprouted out of the ground.

Then he saw it.

He tried to bring himself to a halt, or at least steer clear of the razor sharp branch ahead of him. Watching in horror, the branch took the shape of the sword, even as Cartwright's face cackled at him from the bark of the tree.

"No," He panted. "NO! NO!"

He leapt, desperate to avoid the fate that would leave him so crippled, so useless, so _dependent._

But it was no use; he felt the pain, heard the dull thud as his leg fell to the floor before the rest of him did.

He let out a scream, oblivious to all but his suffering as the world around him swirled into black...

-x-x-x-x-x-

He awoke with a start, virtually jumping out of his bed.

"Easy!" Manny said, forcing him back onto the bed with his trunk. He felt too weak to protest, numbly slumping back onto the bed. He looked up at the mammoth, noting the bags under his eyes.

"Manny," He murmured. "How...how long have you been here?"

"All night." The pachyderm admitted.

"I can tell; you look like crap," He replied, giving him a small smile. "You didn't have to do that, you know."

"I know," He said, nodding slightly. "But you did it for me. Besides, I wanted to be the one to tell you the news."

He lifted his head off of the bed, giving the mammoth an inquisitive stare. Behind the tiredness he saw a glint in his eye, a hint of a smile, the trace of anticipation...

"What's going on?" He asked bluntly.

The mammoth gave him a big smile. His excitement - only moments before hidden - now almost palpable.

"You're going in for an operation today," He said. "It's time...you're getting a new leg, Dee. A new _leg._"

He didn't know what to make of the news; he certainly didn't share Manny's enthusiasm for it. How could he tell him that he didn't want a _new _leg, but the old one? Yet he knew he couldn't just deny it on the impossible dream that his leg would return.

A leg was a leg; at least he could walk again.

He gave the mammoth as big a smile as he could give him,

"Good," He stated, with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. "That's good..."

A sad twinge affected Manny's smile. He felt the mammoth's trunk rest gently on his shoulder,

"I know you want your leg back," He said quietly. "But this is at least something Diego. Nigel says it will be as strong - maybe even a little stronger - than your old leg."

He lay his head back on the pillow, eyes trailing onto the wall,

"Maybe," He muttered. "But it isn't _my _leg..."

The two of them sat in companionable silence for a long while. Deep down, Diego felt a pang of guilt; it wasn't Manny's fault, or anyone's around him, for how his leg was taken.

_I should be more thankful, _he chided himself. _I might even be able to run again._

"Hey," He said, putting a paw onto the mammoth's trunk and smiling slightly. "Thank them for me."

"I will," Manny promised.

"And..." He trailed off slightly. "Thanks...for staying with me."

The pachyderm smiled,

"You did the same for me before."

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"MANNY! MANNY!"

Dozens of other people had joined the herd in its search for the mammoth, including William, Theo and - to his surprise - Samuel. He took a brief look at the three leaders of the Bredelands, all of them so keenly searching for his missing friend, and felt nothing but gratitude.

Especially the sloth; after the Council session, he had developed the impression that the Advocate didn't approve, let-alone like, the herd.

Diego never truly decided what to think about people by what they say alone, but also their actions; the sloth's willingness to help them spoke volumes about him, as far as the sabre was concerned.

"MANNY!" He shouted. "MAAANNEEEYY!"

The herd wasn't surprised that he was already up before all of them; besides Manny's notorious habits of being an early riser, they all knew he didn't sleep well when he had things on his mind.

But when the mammoth didn't return for breakfast, however, they grew concerned. By the time lunch came around, they grew worried. Having asked around and confirmed that _no-one _had seen Manny that morning, they knew something was wrong.

They had been searching for almost three hours, and still they found no sign of the mammoth.

Frank ran up to him, puffing and panting,

"We've checked the passes leading down to the Wildernesse Plains. The watchers didn't see anyone, let alone a mammoth, pass through last night."

"So he's still up here," Diego concluded. "Well that narrows it down...how big is Senweca?"

The look on Frank's face told him what he needed to know,

"Damn," He grumbled. "How long will it take to search the whole place?"

"Claire's bringing the militia over in groups of five, should have most of 'em over in an hour, so we should be able to finish a sweep of it in about two days."

He shot the human an incredulous look,

"Two _days?_" His mind raced at the thought,

_What if he's injured, he'd be dead by then._

Frank shrugged wearily,

"Senweca alone is still almost four times bigger than our valley. Did you really th-"

"My lord Diego! My lord Diego!"

Both of them turned to see Noa - the little messenger bird now in their employ - flap wildly towards them.

"Yeah?"

"My lord Buckminster asks you to come swiftly; he's found him sir," He said quickly. "But he also says to send for medical assistance."

Any relief the first words brought were dashed by the rest.

"Why?" Frank had an edge to his tone.

"Manfred has fallen, my lords," Noa replied fretfully. "At least a hundred feet, into rocks."

_NO._

The floor lurched beneath him, nearly threatening to bring up his breakfast. He swallowed it down, along with his fear,

"Tell me he isn't dead." He said, more as a plea than a command.

"He is not, my lord," Noa replied. "But they cannot wake him. He requires help, my lord Buckminster says; from something you call a 'UNTC'."

He had no time to lose. Every moment he stood there, his friend was at risk from death. "Right. Frank, get back to the valley, contact Sam. Tell them what's happened."

"On it!" Frank broke into a sprint, making his way for the cave.

"And you," He said, pointing at Noa. "Take me to Manny."

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Shingle slid down the sloped cliff as he sped his way down it, hugging the steep incline as he skidded his way diagonally across it, eyes never leaving the small group of animals that surrounded the large lump of fur. The deathly stillness of the mammoth sent a stab of fear through him, for a brief moment forgetting where he was.

He collided with a small outcrop, jarring his shoulder. He shook off the pain and kept moving. He slid to a stop beside the mammoth, barging his way through several bystanders as he did so. Buck looked up, pausing briefly in wrapping Manny in bandages.

"Bloody hell," He muttered, the sheer scale of the damage finally coming to light. Manny's left eye was glued shut by dried blood, his skin pierced in a hundred different places. He grabbed the mammoth by his face and shook, hoping he would wake up,

"Come on Manny!" He shouted. "Wake up! MANNY!"

The mammoth stirred slightly, a groan creeping out of him. Slowly, his right eye flickered open, gazing about blearily before settling on him. Manny smiled weakly,

"Hey Dee," He murmured. "Dya wanna explain why I feel like I've been used like a piñata?"

He smiled in spite of himself at the mammoth as sheer relief flooded him,

"I was kinda hoping you'd tell us that," He replied. "What happened, Manny?"

The mammoth's eye trailed up slightly, scanning the sloped cliff above them.

"I...I fell...I guess." He said.

_He doesn't remember._

He had hoped Manny could tell them what had happened. Looking at his friend's expression though, he began to seriously doubt that,

"Do you remember what happened last night?" He said quietly.

"I...I...I don't know..." Manny mustered. "I remember walking...then nothing. I..._damn_, who's been using me as a pin cushion? I feel like I've got cuts all over."

"That's cos you have, Manny," He replied. "You fell off of a cliff. It's a miracle you're still alive."

His one working eye snapped back onto him, eyeing him with anxiety.

"How bad is it?" The mammoth asked.

"It's..." He trailed off.

Manny closed his eye, grumbling under his breath,

"I should have just gone to sleep...walking at night was a bad idea."

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The sky had dimmed into the deep colour of a bruise by the time the combined efforts of virtually all of the herd, the militia, the Regent's, Chancellor's and Advocate's guards - as well as the Regent, Chancellor and Advocate themselves - managed to get Manny off of the cliff's slope. It would have been faster had the ministrations of Nigel and his team of doctors not slowed them, but Diego paid the grumblings no heed; even if it meant spending days getting Manny to safety _alive, _he wouldn't care. Bit by bit, the small army of volunteers edged the mammoth down towards the level plains of Wildernesse below them. The nearer they got to the bottom, the more of a crowd of interested onlookers gathered at the base of the cliff, watching as the most powerful people in the realm grunted and sweated to aid an unconscious hero of legend.

Any other day, the thought would have struck him as absurd, maybe even funny; the reality was anything but.

The day's light had utterly failed when they finally reached the bottom. Exhausted and covered in sweat, blood and dirt, the sheer relief made itself felt as the group cheered, hugged and congratulated one another. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Diego craned his neck upwards, peering at the pockets of light glinting from the top of it.

"Sid, do you copy?" He murmured into his earpiece.

_"Loud and clear, buddy. Have you gotten him down?"_ The sloth's voice seemed tinny and small compared to the cheers about him.

"Yeah, and he's still alive. Get back to the valley; make sure a team of doctors are waiting for us."

Moments later, the telltale flash of white light illuminated the cliffs above. Satisfied, he sat down beside his unconscious friend and kept watch. He felt over-tired, dirty, filthy, hungry and exhausted, but not once did he move from Manny's side.

"You'd do the same for me." He murmured at the unconscious pachyderm.

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_"Sid to Diego, Sid to Diego!"_

The voice dragged him back into the waking world. The sky had turned a dim blue, as if announcing the return of the day. He shot his head about him, trying to figure out where he was...

The sight of Manny - bound and cleaned, but still visibly hurt in _too many_ places - surrounded by Regents and Advocates and doctors brought the memories back to mind; they had been waiting for Sid to return. Ten, maybe twenty minutes, and then Manny could have gotten treatment.

Somehow, the sun managed to beat Sid back...

"Did you get lost?" He muttered into his radio, wiping the sleep from his eyes. "Sid, we were expecting you hours ago-"

_"The valley...Diego...the valley's been attacked."_

He jumped to his feet in shock.

"What?" He sputtered incredulously.

_"The valley's been attacked Diego," _Sid's voice was trembling. _"It's like they knew, Dee... somehow they _knew_ we weren't there..."_

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After Manny left, time seemed to slow to a crawl as he lay in his bed, waiting for the procedure. Nurses came and went, Mark and Sid checked up on him and finally - mercifully - Manny returned, a group of doctors hot on his heels. The mammoth grinned at him,

"Ready to get a new leg?" He asked.

_I want my old one back, _he thought.

"'Bout time! I'm tired of sitting around all day!" He said aloud.

The ward disappeared behind him as the doctors wheeled him along. He lay on his back, watching the world change around him, offering no resistance when they moved him onto another bed. For all his complaints and grumblings, he wanted a leg; old or new, he no longer cared.

The dream he had of running had reignited his desire to recover, to walk, to be of use...

"Good luck!" Manny shouted. He turned to look at the mammoth, only to find him gone.

His world suddenly became uncomfortably bright. As he adjusted to the light, he found himself surrounded by a mass of machines, themselves surrounded by a mass of people with masks over their mouths. As they shifted him again onto the bed in the centre of the operating theatre, he caught a glimpse of his new leg.

What startled him most was how unnervingly _real_ it looked; the fur was the colour of his own, the proportions were right... if it wasn't for the mass of wires and technological guts jutting out of its end, he would have believed it _was _a real leg.

"Hello Diego," A softly spoken male voice spoke. "How are we feeling?"

The man's face was occluded by both the bright lights and his mask. Diego merely nodded and smiled.

"Very good," The man replied as he put a mask over his face. "I want you to count to ten, Diego. Can you do that for me?"

He shot him an annoyed stare, but none the less complied. The air he was breathing had a tang to it he couldn't place. Every breath he took seemed to flood over him, carrying him off to sleep.

"One, two...three..." The urge to sleep seemed overwhelming.

"...fo...four..."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Ben checked his watch, checked the clock on the wall, and checked his watch again.

Diego's operation had come and gone, and yet he still sat in the witness stand.

He wondered for the thousandth time why he was going along with it, and for the thousandth time a range of thin arguments came back to him, often in his dad's voice.

"On the day that Manny was found injured, you were in the Val do Resto?" Judge Johnson queried, apparently oblivious to his fidgeting.

"If you're asking whether I was present when the valley got attacked, then yeah," He answered brusquely. "I was."

The judge nodded, eyes skimming over the papers before her.

"Given some of the statements of other members of your herd and the political establishment of your era, I would like you to recall for this court what happened that night."

_I should be beside him, waiting with the rest of the herd for him to wake up. _Thanks to the judge's - and Sam's - insistence, the tribunal continued, and Ben was the only member to be present in the courtroom.

"With all due respect, if you have heard numerous statements on it then why do you need to hear it again?" He said, hoping his subtext of _please let me go _got across to the judge.

"As it stands we have only heard circumstantial and secondary evidence on the event, as opposed to a firsthand account," She replied. "If you would provide such an account, this tribunal can adjourn for the day."

Her message was clear; _hurry up and you can go._

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

He dropped into the cushions that surrounded the fireplace in the homestead and let out a long, drawn out sigh. Silently, Mark slid a glass into his hand as the sabre dropped down beside him, a bottle of something strong clutched in his paws.

"How is it that these people can find something new to complain about _every _day," Ben grumbled, taking a swig from the now-full glass. "One moment they're complaining about crops, the next they're arguing over who should build the silos, then-"

"I know; I _was_ there, you know," Mark cut him off with a wry smile. "But it does strike me as odd how _entitled _they all feel they are."

He grunted, taking another swig. His insides felt warm as he drank the stuff down.

"Did you hear that ox today? What was his name...Dennis? No, no, that's not it..."

"Donald." Mark said.

"That's right, _Donald_...did you _hear _him today?'_All you people ever do is say no to us. What about when the winter comes? We could freeze to death, or starve!'_"

Mark chuckled mirthlessly as he turned to gaze at the fire,

"Give them a claw, and they take your whole foot," the sabre muttered. "The way they talk makes you wonder how they ever survived before us..._here_, in the _south_...where it's _warm_ most of the year, the winters are always mild and forests always fruitful..."

"To the valley!" He declared, raising his glass in a mocking toast. "And to its resourceful, tactful and intelligent peoples!"

"Hear hear!" Mark chuckled.

Just as the glass touched his lip, the night sky flashed with white light, illuminating all about it for a brief moment. It had been so long since he'd seen it - and so unexpected - that he jumped, spilling the drink onto the floor. Mark sat up, eyes peering at the darkness,

"Was that Ian I saw arriving?" He murmured.

As if in answer to the query, the truck rolled towards them, coming to a silent stop beyond the edge of the homestead.

He leapt to his feet as soon as the door flung open.

"Mum?" He called out in surprise as she swept him up into a hug. As soon as she let go of him, her eyes drifted onto the half empty bottle,

"I see you're taking after your father," She stated, a slight smile forming on her lips.

He scratched his beard, hoping to mask the fact that his cheeks have reddened,

"So, how is everyone? Is everything going ok at the Bredelands?" He said breezily.

Claire smirked,

"Everyone's fine. I don't know about the Bredelands as a whole, but the Council is as decidedly backstabby and insincere as Breda apparently wills it, and no, I'm _not_ here to embarrass you, in case you are wondering."

_Am I that predictable? _He felt his pride hurting.

"Ok, so why are you here then?"

"We've been shown a cave that contains the entire history of the...to be honest, it would take some explaining, and it's been a long day. Long story short, I need to take Sid. Now."

Mark shot her a quizzical glance,

"You realise it's the middle of the _night_, right?"

"Manny said the exact same thing," She replied. "But trust me; Sid is going to want to see this."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Mum was back the next day, but this time there were no smiles, only the news that Manny was missing. The village elders had been convened, and they agreed whole-heartedly to send up all but twenty of the militia to help in the search.

She had flashed back and forth in the truck, ferrying half a dozen militia at a time.

The news that one of their own had gone missing was hard enough. Though, when mum appeared again just as the sun was at its highest, he knew she came with news they wouldn't like; he saw it in her eyes.

He held Peaches tightly as Mark and Roshan sat close to her on the other side, one small part of a circle of elders and leaders of the people of the valley.

No one smiled. No one even muttered a glib remark. Every set of eyes were focussed on Claire as she spoke,

"...we don't know what happened, but it looks like he could have just fallen. When I left, we had only just gotten the report that Buck had found him. I...there's no easy way of putting this; Manny has fallen at least a hundred feet into rocks."

Gasps and sobs and fretful whisperings jolted through the meeting. Peaches shook, but held her tongue. He could see her eyes watering, just as much as he saw her biting her lip to contain it.

"Is dad... alive?" She asked weakly.

Claire knelt down and placed a hand on her face,

"Yes, he is, Sweetie," She said softly. "We don't know how badly he's injured, but he's alive. I'm here to not only tell you all, but to tell Sam," She gave her a bleak smile. "You can bet your aunty Sam will do whatever it takes to help him."

Her lips trembled as she gave her a smile,

"Thanks," She whispered. "Now go; dad needs help."

Claire gave the mammoth a hug, nodded to the rest of the assembly, and left, leaving despair, confusion and fear in her wake. Peaches did not react to the murmurs of reassurance that so many gave her; as soon as she could, she made her way for the homestead. He looked on, wondering how he would have reacted had the news been that _his _dad was the one seriously injured...

He was certain he wouldn't have reacted in such a dignified manner as she had, and she was a decade younger than him.

"What do we do?" Mark asked mutedly.

He opened his mouth, and closed it just as quickly; he didn't know anything about commiserating with a teenage girl.

"She will be angry," Roshan stated. "She will want fight."

_Of course. _He should have realised that; he had been so fixated on her age and what girls _normally - _whatever that truly was - liked to do, that he forgot she was _none_ of those things.

She would want to hit things...and hit them hard.

He smiled wanly at his companions,

"Then she will fight," He replied.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

He dropped the wooden swords, sending them clattering to the ground in front of the silent mammoth. Peaches didn't move. He stood there, a smile on his face, and a tightly bound bundle under his arms. He had hoped she would have jumped at the chance...

Or at least responded in some way.

"I don't wanna train." She replied quietly.

"Not train," Ben replied. "_Fight. _I want you to fight me."

Her head swivelled around slowly, revealing her reddened eyes and damp cheeks. She stared dully at him,

"I don't. Want. To fight." She said, barely loud enough for him to hear.

_You're doing this wrong, _he realised. He let the bravado in his tone and posture disappear, and sat down beside her, and waited in silence.

"Do you know why your father let me keep training you?" He said.

She shook her head.

"We've been in a lot of fights, Peaches," He said softly. "We have a lot of enemies, and many of them want to see us dead. The herd isn't going to be around forever, little pea; with luck, it will be because of old age that we go. Manny and Ellie and all of us are here for you now, but we aren't always going to be, and your dad doesn't want his _only_ child to be defenceless when the time comes. That's why he got someone at the UNTC to make you this..."

Her eyes went wide as he unwrapped the bundle, revealing the treasure within. Her trunk slid over its scabbard and oversized handle, tracing the engravings on it. She looked up in awe,

"_Dad_ got this for me?" She exclaimed.

He smiled,

"He said I should give it to you when I thought you were ready...which will be whenever you can _beat_ me in a _fight_."

A flicker of understanding lighted up her face,

"So if I beat you today, this really becomes mine?"

Nodding, he gave her a grin,

"Yep. So I'll ask you again; do you want to fight me?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

He jumped out of the reach of Peaches' sword, the bruise on his leg aching as he did so. He swung right, blocked, attacked, was blocked, all the while finding himself being forced backwards with every blow.

Peaches showed no mercy; every window of opportunity, every chance she had, she attacked him. He felt himself grow weaker with every bone-shattering thrust, realising only then just how _strong _a mammoth was.

The end was inevitable; all he was doing was putting himself through more pain.

He thrust forward, finally gaining a few paces back from Peaches. They parried, circling about each other, both of them aiming for their opponent's weakest points.

_"BEN!"_

The radio humming into life caught him utterly off guard, and sealed his end. With a swiftness he didn't know she had, she slammed her sword into his chest, into his back and knocked out his feet from below him. He cried out, both out of pain and for his wounded pride as he came crashing down to the ground. He peered at the shadow that loomed over him, illuminated only by the flickering light of the torches. He felt the tip of the wooden sword press at his chest,

"Do you yield?" Peaches asked. Her grin seemed maniacal in the torchlight.

He groaned, nodded, and promptly collapsed.

_"BEN! DO YOU COPY?"_

"Thank you, Mark," He grunted into his radio as Peaches lifted him to his feet. "Thanks a bunch...what is it?"

_"I'm at the main entrance to the valley. Three of our militia are dead here; their throats have been cut."_

Any amusement he or Peaches had vanished in an instant. He swallowed hard, refraining from asking who they were; he was friends with many of the militia and knew them all by name. The fact three of their friends could be dead; however, was the least unsettling thing about it. Almost instinctively, he looked about them.

The woods about them seemed more ominous at that moment. He scanned around him, suddenly struck with the sickening sense of being watched.

"How recently." He asked. Limping to the edge of the practice area, he picked up his real sword and strapped it about his waist. Mark's voice seemed faint as he handed Peaches her own.

He would have wanted to give it to her with a bit more pomp.

_Another time._

"Judging by the blood, I'd say half an hour. There are a lot of tracks here, Ben, and they're all headed one way..."

He gestured to Peaches, _let's go. _The mammoth fell in with him, matching his brisk pace. His bruises ached, but he paid them no heed.

"Raise the alarm, assemble the militia and tell them to-"

_"What militia? There's only twenty of them left in the valley and three of them are dead!"_

"RALLY THEM!" He shouted, breaking into a run. As they drew near to the forest's edge they got, the distant sounds of screaming could be heard. "Rally anyone that's left! Rally the _children_ for all I care; we're under attack!"

As soon as they exited the forest, he saw the plumes of smoke and heard the screams.

"Stay with me!" He shouted at Peaches, and lunged towards the nearest settlement.

The air was thick with smoke, its murky depths illuminate only by the blazing inferno that was once the village's school. A rapidly muffled scream from a nearby house drew his attention. Drawing his sword as he passed through the doorway, he made a quick assessment of the room; in the corner, a family he knew well was cowering, towered over by two humans...

_Humans? _They must have been there for Roshan, to retaliate and capture him...

But they were dressed wrongly; whilst they had bone tipped spears and fur-clothes on, the most eye-catching item they were wearing were armbands of a pure, impossible-for-the-era shade of black. Both men lost interest in the cowering family, and pointed their spears at him.

It all happened quickly; he lunged, slicing a spear in two, along with the skull of the man who held it. The corpse collapsed on the floor as he yanked out the blade, scanning for his next kill. He turned, swiping a jab made at his thigh and hacked down on the man's arm.

The man screamed in pain as his right arm fell to the floor, twitching as blood puddled around it. Ben spun the sword around, over his head, and into the man's neck.

His face was locked into a silent scream forever more as it parted ways with his neck.

He heaved, looking about him at the spasming bodies that once were men. He wanted, longed, to comfort the family, still weeping to themselves in the corner.

He had no time.

"Ronald, take your children and RUN! Make for the other side of the valley." He roared.

House by house they - he and Peaches - rooted the humans out, until the battle was dragged into the streets. Outnumbered twenty to one, he stood back to back with the young mammoth, fighting the humans fiercely.

"MARK!" He shouted into his radio as he plunged his sword into a man's chest. "MARK! WHERE ARE YOU!"

Screams of pain and death were all around him, and only some of them were thanks to him. He could only catch brief glimpses of Peaches as she fought bravely by his side as he dodged attacks and hacked away at their enemies. One of them successfully countered his dodge, leaving a gash in his leg. He screamed in pain, and repaid the assailant by slicing his leg off. As he kept fighting, he was distantly aware of a flash of bright light illuminating the sky.

"ATTACK!"

The disembodied cry - _Mark, _he thought in relief - echoed over the din of war, though none of the humans seemed aware of what it meant.

The roar that followed, however, spelled it out clearly. He caught sight of Mark and Roshan running through the streets with what was left of the militia, and charged into the backs of the humans. Buoyed, he and Peaches fought on as Mark and Roshan hacked, slashed, and clawed their way through the attackers.

In an instant, the battle turned to a rout. They ran after the humans, felling any that they caught.

As they charged, the humans they chased seemed to drop dead of their own volition. Even he, as he ran past the newly dead bodies, could tell a gunshot wound, even if it was night by then. Still sprinting, he looked up, surprised to find the telltale flash of a rifle coming from a nearby hill.

The rout quickly turned into a massacre. The massacre quickly turned into a hunt for one human.

"WE NEED HIM ALIVE!" Ben ordered.

The sniper seemed to have heard him; rather than his head, it was the man's leg that splintered apart. Screaming, he fell to the floor, clutching what remained of his limbs. Panting, bloodied and cleaved, the militia surrounded him, pointing their own spears down at him. Roshan leapt on him, grabbing him by the throat and barking at him in an unintelligible language.

Later on, after the battle had become memory, he had asked him what had been said; in hindsight, it was obvious...

_"Who sent you?"_ Roshan growled in his own language.

The human looked up at him in trembling defiance, remaining silent. Roshan scowled at him as he forced his knee down on the human's shattered leg.

_"Who sent you?"_ He repeated over the screams.

_"AAAAAGGH! AAAALARIC! ALARIC SENT US! PLEASE STOP! PLEASE STOP!"_

_"Why did he send you?"_ He spat.

_"TO KILL YOU! TO KILL YOU ALL! TO GET RID OF THEAAAAGH! THE - GAH! STOP! PLEASE! THE GUARDIANS! THE GUARDIANS! THE GUARDIAAAAAGGH!"_

Roshan spat on the floor, punching the man hard in the face. The air seemed silent after the screams faded. He looked on at the unconscious man on the floor, and up at Roshan. The man he had slowly come to see as a friend had, essentially, tortured another human right before his eyes. It should have shocked him...what surprised him is that it didn't.

"What did he say?" He asked quietly.

Roshan turned to look at the burning village behind them, a haunted look in his eyes,

"He was sent by Alaric...they meant to kill us all,"

Ben did not expect the sheer intensity of the gaze that turned to meet his own,

"He mentioned your herd by name; he called you 'Guardians'."

"How could they possibly know that name?" Mark quizzed.

He placed a hand on the sabre's shoulder, only then beginning to feel the pain all over him.

"How else," He grunted. "'_Through forces unseen...'_"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Can I just stop you there, Ben. Could you clarify for the court who Peaches is?"

_How could you not know?_

The question confused him, but only for as long as he couldn't see her eyes. Judge Johnson's lips were pursed, her eyes cold.

_Is she...judging me?_

"Peaches is Manny and Ellie's daughter," He answered warily.

"And how old is this Peaches _currently._" She asked curtly.

His gaze flickered to the courtroom, and back to her. She knew the answer to the question she was asking of him; he saw it in her eyes.

The only reason she'd want to clarify it is to drag it fully into the open, so that everyone _else _would reach the same conclusion.

Like a deer caught in the headlamps, he felt utterly stuck.

"She is currently...thirteen, your honour."

The gasps said it all.

"And so she would have been twelve at the time?"

"That is correct, your honour."

"If I may be so bold, Ben, what right do you have to put a twelve year old girl into a position where she became, to all intents and purposes, a child soldier?"

He could have answered it calmly. He could have put it to rest without an incident.

Instead, he flew to his feet so quickly his chair went tumbling.

"And what part of this incident was _my _doing?" He spat. "What choice did we have in it? OUR HOMES WERE BURNING. OUR _PEOPLE_ - friends and families we had grown up with - were being killed! What bloody right do _you - _do _any _of you? - have to sit there and judge us? Were _you_ there? Have you ever even _been _in such a situation? She either fought, or she would have been _dead_. All of us would have been dead!" He spun about, turning his ire onto the courtroom. "We have saved your pathetic excuse of a civilisation more times than I can count, and _this _is the way you repay us? No; you're not getting any more answers out of me, _Your Honour._"

Stunned silence greeted him. He glared about the room, but no one dared meet his gaze until he looked at the judge. She sat there, taken aback, shuffling her papers as if unsure what she should do. When she looked at him, he saw regret mingled with annoyance.

"If I may, Ben-"

"You may _not, _Your Honour," He cut in, earning yet more mutterings. "With all due respect, I am _not_ bound by your laws, and can leave whenever I wish. I can't speak for the others, but I personally am done with this _farce_. Good day."

He stormed down the main aisle of the courtroom, all too aware of the eyes following him out. He knew he should have handled it differently, but it was too late now. Part of him felt angry at himself.

Part of him felt relief; he was free of the tribunal, at least...though he imagined the repercussions would not be far off.

"This session is adjourned." He heard the judge say stiffly. He kept walking.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Diego was paying too much attention to Manny to look at the devastation wrought on the valley. He didn't want to see or believe it until he was certain Manny was safe; he couldn't give either much justice if he took them both on at once.

In fact, he was certain that the two combined would just tear him apart.

Having safely arrived in the valley, the army of volunteers proceeded to carried Manny carefully from the truck to the massive hulking time machine that sat embedded in the cliffs, a constant reminder of the herd's greatest success and worst failure. He looked up at Nigel keenly,

"Take care of him, doc," He stated.

"We will, don't you worry about that," Nigel promised.

With the machine whirring into life he took several steps away, watching as the assortment of doctors edge the lumbering mammoth through the portal.

It was only when the machine powered down that he took a genuine sniff of the air, wrinkling his nose at the stench of burnt flesh, ash and death surrounding the place.

_My home._

He had no excuses anymore not to look. Yet, as soon as he turned to see it with his own eyes, he struggled to believe it.

It was chaos and confusion. As he walked through the ruins of the village, he heard people still screaming in fear, long after the fighting had ended. He had to have walked at least a third of the main village - all of it charred or battle scarred, some of it having actually burnt down - before he came to stand beside Sid. He did not notice his arrival; in fact, the sloth seemed stunned beyond all emotion.

"It's strange what you care most about when so much has struck at the very heart of you," Sid said quietly. "All around us, people we have lived with for more than a decade are terrified, some of them have been killed, and Ben and Peaches greeted us covered in blood. But somehow the thing that has really gotten to me..."

Tears glinted in the sloth's eyes at that moment.

"They burnt the school," He murmured, taking a deep breath. "Forty seven people dead, and I can't stop thinking about this stupid, meaningless building."

Diego still remembered building the place, just as he remembered Frank getting caught up in his supporting ropes. It had been long, gruelling, and challenging work, building the village...

He looked back at it fondly.

But now it was ashes, burnt into nothing by people who hated them. Even the memorial to the other herd - the herd that saved them, at the cost of their own lives - had been charred by it. He winced, turning his gaze back at Sid.

"It wasn't meaningless," He replied. "It was a heart of this community... It's why they burnt it."

He nodded, though Diego knew Sid didn't hear him.

"I killed them," The sloth stated, finally looking him in the eye. He saw surprise in those eyes, though no fear.

A part of him felt proud of his friend at that moment. Another part of him feared for the sloth.

"I killed almost a dozen of them. I haven't used Frank's rifle in years...I didn't know if I could even remember how to use it."

"I know," He replied. "You did well, buddy."

"It's been years since I killed anybody..." Sid remarked distantly. He could see that his claws were shaking. "...Diego, why did they do it? Why burn the village if they only wanted to kill us? Why kill _forty seven _people if they only wanted to kill _us_?"

Sighs came easily that day. He had thought the same thing for quite some time, though part of him wish he hadn't; the more he thought about it, the more it made - _horrifying _ - sense.

"They don't just wanna kill us, they wanna kill the _idea _of us," The sloth looked him in confusion, so he continued. "Oh come on, Sid! Think about it; what do guardians do?"

"Protect people," The sloth's eyes widened almost as soon as he said it. "So...they want to prove we can't defend our own people?"

He smiled wanly,

"And if we can't defend even these guys, then how can we defend the Bredelands?"

"Makes sense if he's planning on invading someday, as the Council seems to think...but there's one thing I don't get; how did he _know_ our militia would be gone? Those humans must have travelled over a thousand miles to get here. And, once they had done whatever they wanted to do, how would they have gotten home?"

All it took was a look for Sid to understand. The sloth slumped a little, horror settling in his eyes,

"Alaric sent them on a suicide mission..." He murmured.

Even then, too much of it didn't add up. He looked about him, mulling the whole crappy situation in his head, knowing that Sid was right; somehow - _somehow _- Alaric had to have had enough to go on to send them...

_Manny's fall._

The two events had seemed separate to him, even though Sid suggested it almost immediately. His heart thundered as the two thoughts merged into each other.

"We need to go," He stated. Sid looked at him oddly,

"Go? Go where? We're needed _here_, Diego!"

"We need to get back to Senweca," He replied. "There's a few loose ends that I want to check out..."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Frank had stood there for hours, standing on the probable spot from where Manny fell, staring out into the distance in the direction of their valley.

He needed to go back - wanted to go back - if only to be sure his son was safe.

Instead, he found himself on the edge of the cliffs of Senweca, trying to divine the course of events that led to Manny meeting the rocks below with only the stones about himself to guide him.

Annoyingly, the stones had proven most unhelpful; he couldn't even find a scuff mark.

Sensing someone standing beside him on the cliff, he snapped out of his thoughts. He still stared out at the plains beyond.

"Have you just come back from the valley?" He said as he turned to face the sabre. Diego looked haggard and sombre.

_People have died. _He knew the look well; he saw it almost every day for years whenever he looked in the mirror.

"Yeah." Diego murmured.

"...how many."

"Forty seven dead, twenty nine wounded. Ben, Peaches and Roshan took a prisoner, but died from his wounds too; not that anyone will be weeping for _him," _He looked up at him. "Before he died though, he confirmed that Alaric had sent them to kill us. Burnt down a third of the main village in the process. The village elders are panicking, but Keira's on top of things. I've sent the militia home."

He nodded, turning his gaze down to the slopes below.

_Manny fell from this spot, _he thought to himself, though you wouldn't have realised it; no parts of the cliff edge were freshly seared, and the ground felt sturdy beneath him...

"Manny's a big guy, but he's not clumsy," He said, opting to include the sabre in his thoughts. "I've seen him move; the guy's not graceful, but he knows where to plant his feet."

"You think he was pushed." Diego stated.

The sabre's tone surprised him.

"You think so too, apparently." He replied.

Diego shrugged, turning his eyes to the horizon.

"I had my suspicions. Manny's been going on nighttime walks since forever. And I can't shake the fact that this happened just the day before the attack on the valley..."

He blinked,

"Alaric ordered the attack on the valley..."

"...and Alaric could have _also _arranged this."

Such a thought struck him as both logical and - as far as Alaric was concerned - _incredibly _dumb.

Even he knew that a good villain covered his tracks.

"But why would he? Trying to kill Manny the night before an attack is sloppy; he's made it all too clear he's behind it."

Diego looked at him with weary eyes,

"Maybe that was the point. If Manny died at the same time our valley did, we would have been finished. But even without us dying, it's still a message," The sabre sighed. "He can hit us anywhere, and isn't afraid to do so. Sid was on to something when he said it seemed like he knew _we _were _here..._"

Implication alone was all he needed, but his mind played it out in all its horrifying reality.

"He wanted to kill Peaches...Ben...Mark..."

"And our reputation," Diego cut in. "Both of us know how the Council is going to react when word gets out that the _Guardians _couldn't even guard their own valley."

_'How can you defend the Bredelands if you can't even defend your own?' _The sentence switched between voices as it echoed in his head, flittering between the Advocate's, the Regent's, the Chancellor's... and Manny. He rubbed his eyes with his hands, wishing they had never set foot in the Bredelands, wishing none of the last six months had happened...

_Wishing gets you nowhere._

"We're fighting blind here," He grumbled. "We need to know what Alaric's doing."

Diego shook his head slightly,

"Manny already shot that idea down-"

"Manny isn't _here,_" He retorted. "And the rules have changed since then; Alaric isn't some distant enemy anymore. He's now a direct threat that we need to understand, and destroy if needs be. _He_ made it personal...and we should return the favour."

Diego nodded, giving him a small smile,

"I thought you'd say that," He replied. "So I took the liberty of putting together a team of us."

He swivelled on his heels to take a good, long, inquisitive look at the sabre,

"Who are you taking?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"That is _out _of the question!" William bristled. "You cannot expect the Council to just accept this. A fire has more chance in a snowstorm than this!"

Diego rolled his eyes as he glanced at Frank. The human seemed bleakly amused,

"Regent, if we don't send a party out to figure out what is going on, then a fire in a snowstorm might be all that's left in the end to tell people that the Bredelands once stood here."

William bristled some more, though no words seemed to come to him. He and Frank both watched as the Regent paced about his cave, occasionally glancing out of it at the bright and sunny world beyond. He knew what he was asking of the Regent; he knew he would take it badly.

He didn't, however, expect him to take it _this _badly.

"You are asking me to commit political suicide," He said pointedly. "You want me to tell the Council that not only did you teach the human our language - which I am _not _happy with, by the way - but then you proceeded to befriend him, train him...and now you want me to agree to you taking him with you on a scouting party? And for what? Knowledge of a few troop movements? A chance for the human to escape..._why _do you need _him _to go?"

"I wonder," Diego replied dryly. "Why do we need someone who knows the _terrain_, the _people_ and the _language _of our enemies? It's a mystery, for sure."

Will stopped his pacing to glare,

"Do not mock me," The Regent growled. "Your position is perilous enough as it is; it would not be wise to bite the trunk who is trying to help you."

Frank gave him a chilly smile,

"Yes, I forgot about that, _thank you. _Thank you _so much _for making us and ours a target by making us elders. I'm sure the families of the forty seven of our dead would be most grateful for your _help. _And I'm sure they'd like to thank all the guards you have posted about the place, who somehow managed to miss a _human _raiding party of over _thirty_ men, who somehow managed to slip past them unnoticed."

The mammoth's mouth opened and closed, doing so repeatedly until his eyes dropped to the floor, his features settling upon a frown.

"Forty seven," He murmured. "I...I am sorry for your loss. I vow-"

"We don't give a damn about your _vows_," Frank spat back. "We only give a damn about answers. Answers that can only be found beyond your borders."

_This isn't getting us anywhere. _He placed a paw on the human's arm, giving him pause. Diego let out a sigh,

"I'm sorry Will, but you've put us in a tight spot. This Alaric nearly killed Manny, and tried _very _hard to kill, among others, Frank's son. You might not be willing to permit it, but one way or another, it is going to happen, because right now, we haven't got any idea what we're up against. We need to know if we're going to protect _anyone_. We're taking Roshan with us."

The Regent nodded slightly, his eyes darting to the entrance to the cave.

"Then this conversation did not happen," He said quietly. "You never came to me. Do not let him be seen by any guard, or it will become known that the human prisoner no longer resides in the Val do Resto. If that comes to pass, I will be forced to drag you before the Council on charges of treasonous dealings with our enemy, and the penalty will almost certainly be death."

Frank balked. Sinking his claws slightly into the man's jacket, he simply nodded,

"Fair enough. Thank you."

Will gave him a wan smile, making his move to leave,

"You might not thank me in the end; our border guards are vigilant."

"If that's true, then how did the humans get past them?" Frank replied.

The Regent paused by the exit of his cave, turned slightly as if to speak, but left all the same. Silence rarely means nothing, but he wished the silence from William were more comforting; a part of him had hoped the Regent would have known.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The doctors had promised him, before the operation, that he wouldn't dream during the operation.

They lied.

For what felt like hours, days, _lifetimes, _Diego had dreamed. He saw too much he couldn't understand, too much that confused him, and what he did understand, terrified him.

But before he could gain any answers, the worlds he found himself in had drained away, replaced by darkness.

_Consciousness, _he thought idly. As the little cloud of thought that was himself drifted through the black, he somehow knew he was - _technically - _awake. But nothing responded to him; he felt no body, and no senses were readily to hand. So he wafted, oddly content to just float, awaiting the return of the use of his body.

Slowly, he felt something begin to change; his chasm of infinite emptiness now echoed with faint echoes of familiar voices. He grinned - or, what passed for a grin when one was only a cloud of thought - as he heard the comforting voices of his friends chatting idly over the hum of machinery and the steady breathing of easily a dozen people. His body was waking up again; soon, he would be free.

So he waited, and listened.

"Who reads this rubbish?" He heard Sid say.

"Well...you, apparently." Manny retorted.

"I am merely reading it in order to criticis-_WHAT_! How could she have _possibly _lost all that weight? That's amazing!"

"Of all the people to like glossy mags, it had to be our resident bookworm," He could practically hear the amused smile that sat on Frank's face. "Even the literate fall for bright pictures and gossip eventually."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Sid replied hastily. "Stop bemoaning the fall of civilisation and just _look _at her! She's lost a ton! Wow...she is so pretty."

"...er, Sid? It says there that she's the _Queen Mother_ of Denmark...and seventy three." Manny said.

"And that's not even beginning to mention that she's an _ox_." Mark added.

The rest of his sensations slowly began to return; he could move a little, groan a little, taste the sterile scents of the room and the musks of everyone present.

His nose told him that the whole herd was present, as were James, Sam and Terry.

All of their scents grew stronger as soon as he groaned.

As he opened his eyes slowly, squinting against the light, blurs surrounding him transformed into the herd. He managed a slight smile,

"Uhhey...gguyys..." He fumbled.

Moving onto his right side, he stopped in mid motion, suddenly aware of something new attached to him. Bleary eyed, he looked down. He clenched and unclenched his paw, moving it slowly about. It looked like a sabre's leg, smelled like a sabre's leg...he was pretty sure, eventually, it might even move like a sabre's leg.

For all intents and purposes, he knew he was no longer a cripple.

_Then why aren't I happy? _He knew the answer already, but the fact that his real leg would never return to him was a truth his heart stubbornly refused to accept; the leg attached to him wasn't _his _leg.

Still, its presence was a relief; he had grown somewhat tired of bed rest. He yearned to walk again, to run, to be _free. _He likened being trapped in a bed to putting Sid and books on opposite sides of a canyon, with no way across.

_There it is; _the thought brought a genuine smile to his face. The people around him took it for his response to the leg, as he had hoped.

"Told you you'd like it," Manny beamed. "You can't move too much for the moment, though."

He shot as close to a confused look as he could muster at the mammoth,

"Uh...wha...why?"

"According to the doctors, the tissue needs time to heal," Mark explained. "Just a few days in bed, and then we can get you out to do a bit of walking. You need to be patient, Dee."

_I've been patient enough, _he wanted to say.

"I can do that," He said aloud, settling back into his pillow. "Bu...By the way...what drugs d-did they put...me on?"

Frank's lips curled into a bemused smile,

"A general anaesthetic," He replied. "Why?"

_Because I dreamed of wolves and burning cities in the past, present and future._

None of it left his lips; he knew all too well how insane it sounded.

"N-no reason...just...curious."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The flash of light as they 'casted from their valley to Senweca permeated Diego's eyelids. Fluttering them open, the blurs and shapes coalesced into recognisable shapes and forms.

Frank, sat beside him, nervously tapping on his wristwatch, eyes fixed ahead.

In the distance, Diego could hear the unmistakable hum of the Council in session. He let out a sigh,

"This is a bad idea." He stated.

"It might be," Frank admitted. "But Claire's plan has the advantage of being _honest_. William's been a politician for years; I was both a soldier and a scientist once, both of which taught me in their own way that the truth matters. The Council should have the chance to condone this."

"_Or _they could kill us," He replied.

"Now why would they kill us?" Frank wore a wry smile. "We're all about to swear fealty to the Bredelands and all its laws. We're becoming citizens, Dee. Not exactly a punishable offence, least of all by death."

He turned to the only one of their trio who had remained silent. Roshan remained still, eyes fixed on the pair of them. If he had any feelings on the matter at hand, he didn't show them.

"And what do you think, Roshan?" Diego asked pointedly.

He looked at him as if snapped out of a trance, and smiled grimly,

"My people tried to kill me," He stated. "I need new people to live and fight for. I shall live and fight with you, for these people."

He slipped the car into first gear and drove forward, resigning himself to the situation,

"I still think this is a bad idea."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Claire was convinced butterflies had nested in her stomach, gerbils had found a home at the back of her throat, and her tongue had grown too big for her mouth. Hundreds of elders sat on seemingly countless rows in a chamber that felt too much like an arena to fight dens of lions for her tastes.

The thought of an arena seemed appropriate. She _was _speaking to a den of lions that day... of sorts; she spotted one or two lions in the midst of the elders about her.

"Order!" Theo called out. "The Council recognises Elder Claire of the Val do Resto to speak!"

Wobbly legs held her aloft as jeers, sneers and cheers greeted her.

_Focus._

She saw hundreds of eyes turning her way, as if she were the only important thing in the world at that moment. Distantly, she was aware that Frank, Diego and Roshan were on their way. Her mouth went dry.

_Focus._

"Honourable elders," She began haltingly, wondering what on earth she was doing there; she was more at home with plants than she was public speaking, she felt. Her mind turned to Manny, to Ellie and all the people who could speak more eloquently than her-

_FOCUS! _A small voice inside her screamed. _THEY AREN'T HERE, YOU ARE! FOCUS!_

"I have come here with great sadness, and heaviness of heart," She continued, her voice gaining strength with every word. "For a diocese of these great lands have been attacked..."

Words came easily to her from then on. She told them the horrors of the attack, the valiant fight given by her son, her niece, and the valley's militia, of the fall of Manny and its suspected murder attempt, of the death of forty seven Bredelanders and wounding of dozens more.

What surprised her most is how _enrapt _they were; just a twinge of emotion, a glint of a tear, a trace of anger, and the elders around her echoed her feelings as if they were her own, each new fact merely contributing to the Council's anger against those who did it to them.

_Now. Tell them now._

"Honoured elders, it is my suspicions that the two are not separate!" She called out strongly, allowing her voice - and her implications - to echo. "The militia of my diocese were far beyond its borders, as were most of the Guardians, to deal with Manny's supposed 'fall'; who can argue that such a time of weakness is not good for an assault? But we have too few answers to solve these problems. Therefore, honoured elders of these lands, I propose to send a small group from the Val do Resto beyond the northern borders of our realm, and find out whatever they can from studying our enemy."

Advocate Samuel looked about his half of the arena for a moment before rising from his seat, holding out his hands for silence. She felt William glaring at her, pointedly choosing to focus in on the sloth instead.

"Elder Claire, I know I speak for this chamber when I offer condolences to the forty seven who have been killed, and prayers to all the gods and Breda for a swift and speedy return to health for those injured, especially Manfred, whose presence is missed by all in this chambers."

Murmurs of agreement rippled through everyone present,

"And whilst I agree with the honourable elder's statement that we know too few answers about this, I must enquire about the safety of such an expedition. The Norte Ademais beyond Halstead Pass, the Sea Gate and the Scarborough Vale are nigh-uncharted by any person living in these 'lands. Only the Weasel traders brought us news and information from those parts, and they have rarely been seen nor heard from in many months. Since you have no true guide, how can you guarantee the effectiveness - or even the survival - of this expedition?"

There it was; the window she has been waiting for, the greatest risk most of them have taken in years. She let a small smile break out at the thought that their greatest battlefield to date would be one made of words. Days had been spent arguing over the plan, especially after William's all-too-clear views were sought out. She had suggested it - after consulting some of the history Sid had already copied down - and, in the end, none of them were truly arguing against the idea, per se; they fretted about what the Council would do. The possibility of being gored was raised often, she recalled.

_There's nothing free in politics, _Frank had said, _one day, they will have something from us in exchange for agreeing with this, and mark my words, we won't like it any more than they will like this._

There was only one way of finding out.

"We have a guide," She replied, earning many surprised remarks. "One who knows the lands beyond our borders very well. He is, in fact, present here this day."

"Is he now, honoured elder?" Samuel said. "And why would such an adventurer be present?"

"Why, to swear fealty of course, honoured Advocate," She replied, smiling. "For in the seven months he has resided within these lands, he has taken to our institutions, our language, and our customs, and wishes to live and breathe under the noble rule of this Council."

Even as she turned to the Chancellor, she could almost _hear _the shocked looks she was getting,

"Chancellor, may I usher in three persons residing within our borders, who wish to swear fealty to Regent, Council, Laws and People?"

Theo shifted in her seat, eyeing her with a knowing look.

"As you wish," The tigress replied.

"Honourable Elders, Regent, Chancellor and Advocate, may I introduce to you, Diego, son of Cortez, elder for the Val do Resto. And also Frank, son of Christopher, elder of the same, and Roshan, son of Runar, heir-presumptive to the Chieftainship of the Danaru, the largest of the twelve tribes of humanity."

No one seemed to know how to react as the three men made their way across the cavernous expanse below the seats of the Council's Chamber. Some jumped up and shouted angrily, others stared in silent shock, and still more doing a mix of the two. Yet the two humans and the sabre did not flinch, nor did they look about them, always moving resolutely towards the Chancellor's Chair, and knelt in its shadow.

"ORDER!" Theo roared, silencing the whole chambers. Satisfied, she looked back at Claire, then at the three kneeling men before her. Samuel still stood, staring wide eyed at the humans below.

"Chancellor, I must protest!" He shouted. "This is completely unacceptable!"

"How so, honourable Advocate?" Claire shot back. "These men wish to swear fealty to these lands and uphold them."

"But he is a-"

"_Human?_" Claire cut the Advocate off sternly. "May I remind this honourable chamber that you have two humans as elders already? One of them is speaking with you now, the other is swearing fealty. What is the Bredelands if not a declaration that all races are equal under the law?"

"Elder Claire has the right of it," Theo stated before Samuel could reply. "There is no law against this, and many in favour," She studied the three kneeling men keenly, clasping her paws beneath her chin. "Diego, Frank...Roshan...we the Council have been informed that you wish to swear fealty to Breda, her lands, and all her peoples."

"We do, Chancellor." They replied in unison.

"Very good. Therefore, Diego, son of Cortez, elder of these lands, do you swear to protect and serve all the lands that are Breda's, to uphold all of its laws and the dignity of its Council, and to defend the people from tyranny, destruction, oppression and the rule of kings, even if it means your death?"

"On my honour, I swear it." Diego declared.

"Frank, son of Christopher, elder of these lands, I ask you the same."

"On my honour, I swear it."

"And Roshan, son of Runar, so recently our enemy, do you swear the same?"

Everyone leaned forward, holding their bated breaths in anticipation. Roshan looked up at the Chancellor,

"On my honour, and on the honour of my ancestors, I swear it."

The mood palpably changed in an instant. Though the shock remained, much of the anger had given away to astonishment, even excitement.

It briefly occurred to her that they were expecting him to spit on their laws. She couldn't blame them; most humans they had encountered wanted nothing more than to eat them and wear their skins.

A human willing to live by their laws was still a new concept to them, apparently.

Theo relaxed, allowing herself a smile,

"Diego, Frank, Roshan, you have sworn an oath to these lands and its people, in the presence of many witnesses. By the ancient laws and traditions of these lands, I must hereby declare that all crimes against persons of these lands in your past are forgiven and remembered no more. Rise as citizens, and defenders of the realm."

As they stood, a solitary clapping echoed faintly from one of the higher rows of seats. Quickly, however, it was joined by more clapping, then trumpeting and roars, until the entire Council was cheering wildly. She knew why; it wasn't every day that the son of one of their enemies became their protector. Even Samuel clapped, though he looked at her rather than them as he bowed, as if acknowledging a worthy opponent. She smiled back, giving him a slight curtsy.

The Council broke up shortly after that; somehow, normal politicking had seemed duller than usual after their theatrical display. Getting out of the chambers proved a hard affair for her; suddenly, every elder wanted to speak with her, converse with her, treat her as their own.

_I've been accepted, _she realised. In the eyes of everyone around her, she truly was an elder now.

She finally managed to get to the bottom of the stairs, hoping to make her way across the expanse of empty ground at the centre of the chambers in peace. She nearly walked straight into Regent William. He looked at her sternly, a slight twitching of his lips suggesting he was curbing a smile.

"You did well today," He stated. "Though I recall telling your fellow elders not to do this."

"True. With respects, Regent, we considered your position, and thought otherwise." She gave him a slight smile.

"_We _thought otherwise? Or _you _thought?"

"It was a collective effort," She replied. He finally allowed the smile to break out,

"Good gods, you're sounding more like a politician by the _second_!" He boomed as he beckoned her to walk beside him, slowly making their way to the great entrance of the chamber. "So it _was_ your idea then?"

She shrugged,

"Yes. Although I can't take all the credit; Sid's already copied out a fair chunk of the cave texts you showed us, and I took some..._inspiration_...from it. Regent Perseus' actions with regards to the Fallen King in the hundred and twenty fourth year of the Bredelands, to be precise."

His head snapped around, eyeing her with surprise,

"Breda wept," He muttered. "You lot have been here barely a month and already you know our history better than half these elders do."

"How can we truly guard what a nation stands for, unless we understand where it came from?" She replied.

Warmth effused his smile,

"All too true, all too true..." He stretched out his trunk as they reached the lip of the entrance. "There is where I leave you, but congratulations on your victory today..." He grinned. "And well played."

She took his trunk in her hands and shook it, and gave him a deep bow,

"Thank you, Regent."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Part of her expected the hardest part of her day to be the return to the Val do Resto. Anger, confusion, lists upon lists of things for the herd...all of these she was expecting.

None of it occurred. Keira greeted her as she jumped out of the truck, said goodbye to all of the people within, and watched it vanish into thin air.

"Welcome home, Claire." Keira said.

Something on the wind caught her attention, distracting her briefly from the antelope before her. She shot her a quizzical look as soon as she realised that she was hearing the unmistakable sounds of wood cutting, hammering and building,

"What's going on?" She asked.

Keira gave her an enigmatic smile,

"Life goes on, and the leaders of the villages decided it just wouldn't do for our main settlement to be a half ruin. So we're setting about rebuilding it."

She blinked,

"_Rebuilding?_ You mean the same people who were pestering us for everything just a few months back-"

"-have rediscovered the art of doing things themselves?" Keira finished, smirking. "It surprised me as well, I'll admit, but I am glad for it."

She struggled to believe it. The valley had shown that it was capable of doing things on its own, but that hadn't stopped them demanding the herd's involvement in everything. But, as Keira led her through the forests and villages, she saw it for herself; people cutting down trees, people building roofs and walls, people tending the wounds of those still injured.

And in the thick of it, and the hardest working, were the same village elders who had demanded so much of them for so long. She looked around her and grinned,

"Who would have thought it," She mustered.

Keira chuckled,

"You're unlikely to believe the rest, either; the elders are getting our finest minds to investigate the mining of iron in these cliffs, and seeing if we can smelt them ourselves, so that we need not bother the UNTC any longer."

Her jaw dropped at that remark, but she had no time to answer as Ellie made her way through the bustling crowds.

"Claire!" She called out. "Claire! Where's Peaches?"

She was still dumbfounded by Keira's response that she didn't initially understand.

"...eh?" Was all she could manage.

"Peaches? You know, your _niece_? Was she with you in Senweca?"

Finally understanding, she shook her head,

"I thought she was here?"

"Well, she isn't."

"Maybe she's hiding-"

"No, you don't get it; we've been searching for most of the day, and have looked in every nook and cranny. She isn't in the valley, and the militia on the entrances haven't seen her. Sam says she isn't with her, so she's _nowhere_, apparently."

A sickening feeling entered her stomach, though she didn't know why.

"She wasn't with me at Senweca. I would have noticed when I...oh..._oh no_..."

Ellie stared at her with wide eyes,

"What is it? Is she ok? What's happened to her?"

Rather than answer, she ran as fast as she could, gunning for the herd's hill and the homestead atop it. A brief glimpse and a hurrying gesture brought the two bewildered women she left behind sprinting hot on her heels. Leaping over the babbling brook, running fiercely up the slope, she found herself in their familiar abode, and began rooting around. Breathless, Ellie and Keira arrived moments later, staring at her like she was bewitched.

"What's going on?" Ellie demanded.

"Her sword!" Claire exclaimed, frantically turning everything out of its cubbyholes. "Where is her sword!"

The mammoth's eyes widened,

"Her sword? You mean Peaches'?"

"Where is it?" Claire practically shouted.

Combined, the three women made short work of the homestead, turning it from a primly kept place into something akin to a bomb blast.

The sword was nowhere to be found.

"Why are we looking for Peaches' sword?" Ellie quizzed. "Where's Peaches?"

"You'll find Peaches wherever her sword is," Claire answered.

"Um...Ok...so, where is her sword?" Ellie asked in confusion.

Keira looked up and frowned,

"Her sword is probably passing Halstead Pass at this moment..."

Claire gritted her teeth in annoyance, recognising a typically Howard trait in such reckless adventure,

"I'm going to kill him when he gets back..."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

With a flash of light, Diego found himself back in a place he never truly wanted to see again.

Half Peak loomed over them angrily to their right, shading them from the sun. The cliffs ran as far as his eyes could see behind them, and ahead turned into a pass.

Even a decade on, the ruined remains of the base's outer perimeter stood sentry at its entrance, only now the pillar boxes and the gate were guarded. Peering down the Pass, he could spot the telltale shadows of guards on the cliff tops, guards on the walls.

Fort Halstead had well, and truly, become a base once more. Ben, in the passenger seat, instinctively lowered his hand onto the grip of his rifle.

In the rear view mirror, he spotted Peaches and Roshan gripping their weapons ever more tightly as all eyes turned forwards.

Even _Sid_ reached for his pistol.

"_Bugger me_," Buck muttered, leaning between the two front seats. "Is it just me, or are there 'undreds of guards 'ere?"

Noa, their own personal messenger bird, perched himself on the dashboard and coughed politely,

"You are almost correct, my lord; there are currently one thousand, three hundred and fifty of our finest guards protecting this Pass."

"Oh _good_," Ben remarked dryly. "Because over a thousand guards are just what we need right now..."

"They don't know we're coming, do they." Sid stated mutedly.

"How could they? You travel faster than my kind could ever hope to do!" Noa declared. "But they know who I am, and the words I carry will be enough for them."

"'ow would they recognise ya?" Buck quizzed. "I've seen 'undreds of your kind flitterin' about, and I still can't tell ya apart."

Noa smiled slightly,

"We are all remarkably similar, I'll admit, my lord, but we do have our differences, and they are easy to spot, once you know what they are. I was the Regent's messenger before came under your employ. They know who I am."

Diego drummed his paws against the steering wheel, staring at the imposing sight before them. He knew they had been spotted; the light alone would have drawn their attention.

And besides, if Noa gets ignored, it would be a _spectacular _fight; after all that has happened, he could use a few stupid morons to claw at.

Slipping the truck into gear, he edged them forwards, drawing to a halt before the lowered gate. Guard after guard looked at them with utterly bemused faces, as if unsure of what to make of the thing that just crawled up to them. Slowly, tentatively, a bear moved towards them, eyeing all the contraption's passengers keenly, even grunting in surprise at the human and smallish mammoth on the back of it. Eventually, the bear turned to Diego,

"What business d'yer 'ave 'ere?" He grunted. "An' why yer carryin' a pup mammoth an' a 'uman?"

"We're here on vacation," Diego remarked dryly. "We've heard that the beaches in the north are to _die _for, and that the wine's not bad either."

Noa flapped wildly, settling onto the window before the bear could reply. The sight of the bird - as Noa stated - cowed them immediately.

"Greetings good guard, these people have been commanded by the Council to go forth and investigate some dealings in the Norte Ademais. Regent William and Chancellor Theodora ask that they be treated well, provisioned as best you can or - failing that - merely to let them pass."

The bear seemed to be chewing on something as he stepped back to study them. He snorted, eyes firmly fixed on Roshan and Peaches,

"Yer really 'specting me ta believe t'Council want 'im ta go home?" He jerked a paw at the human. "Har! What yer really 'ere for?"

The little messenger bird puffed his chest out in indignations. It was no use; it just looked ridiculous in all of their eyes.

Surprisingly, the bird's voice suddenly boomed,

"You are speaking to a citizen of the Bredelands," Noa declared angrily. "He has sworn fealty, and now goes on a Council's errand. Stand aside, _sir, _or I swear you shall answer to the Regent."

Every guard in earshot was staring at them now, unsure of whether to laugh, cringe, or sneer in anger. Looking about him, he was certain it was none of those things; they were looking at the bear, waiting for him to decide how they felt.

Licking his lips nervously, the bear said nothing, opting only to bow in response before walking ahead of them. The ramshackle gate opened for them, and they drove through slowly. Noa nodded in satisfaction, scanning his environs with interest,

"My my, that worked better than I thought!" He exclaimed. "Though I must say, Fort Halstead was less...impressive...than the stories let on."

"That wasn't Fort Halstead." Diego replied quietly, eyes drifting up at the towering cliffs of Halstead Pass that engulfed them.

"That wasn't?" Noa looked confused. "That what it?"

"OPEN THE GATES!" The bear roared.

Cheerful just moments before, the messenger shrank back slightly as the end of the Pass seemed to open up. Diego took one last glance at his rag tag bunch of people before focussing on the gates with weary resignation,

"_That's _Fort Halstead." He said aloud, opting not to voice what he was also thinking;

_Here we go again._

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

**End of Chapter 8**

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

**Firstly, congratulations on getting this far! I realise that this was an exceptionally long chapter and, whilst there was a point or two where I could have split it, I would have had to take out some scenes I really like to have made it work!**

**So, what did you guys think? This story is open to anonymous reviewers, so regardless whether you've never reviewed so far, I would love to hear from you - what you loved, what you enjoyed, what you felt could have been better (with helpful tips on how to do so)...basically, so long as I don't get something flame-tastic, I want to hear from you!**

**I have a busy few weeks coming up so I will probably have to wish you all an excellent June :)**

**Till chapter 9, adieu**


	9. Storms on the Horizon

**Hello everyone!**

**Firstly, thank you for all the reviews! It is great to hear from you all :)**

**And also, i must apologise on two counts; first for this being quite delayed, and second that this chapter didn't turn out as I expected. I was hoping to be able to throw some action into this chapter, but it grew to such a length that I have had to split it in two. So, for all you action-oriented readers out there, the next chapter will be quite dramatic!**

**Now, without further ado...**

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

On first inspection, nothing had changed in Fort Halstead. The concrete window-frame to the mess hall still displayed the pockmarks from hundreds of bullet holes about it, the mound where Frank had buried the last surviving human still just jutted out of the ground in the shadow of the cavernous hangar bay, a dozen different plants now sprouting out of it. He even swore he spotted the odd half buried bottle, reminders of the party they once held there, celebrating in a happier time.

Nothing had changed.

_Everything_ had changed.

It wasn't the derelict and abandoned base that Diego had known it as. Far from it; amongst the dozen or so fires in the courtyard flittered hundreds of grizzled guards, overlooked by hundreds more from virtually every window the towering complex built into the cliff wall could afford. He allowed himself a rueful smile at the notion that the peace-loving peoples of the Bredelands had returned the ruin back into a fully manned fortress.

"Do you remember what Sam said this place would become?" Buck murmured, till then standing silent beside him.

Diego remembered; _it would become a symbol of your victory. _She had said it not to them, but to the thousands of people in the hangar that day.

He saw no victorious symbol when he looked around; he saw at least a thousand soldiers, defending their lands against an unknown force that wants nothing more than to eat them and wear their skins.

If there was any victory present, he couldn't see it. He gave Buck a glance,

"Just 'cause she said it doesn't make it true," He replied. "Now let's get a move on; I don't wanna be here anymore than we need to be."

In truth he didn't expect to be there for long; granted, Noa had requested they give them any provisions they could, but he suspected that would likely be virtually nothing for a people who had no concept of properly storing food.

He wasn't wrong; a bit of greenery for Peaches to eat, a few bits of overly dried strips they claimed to be meat, and a number of suspiciously _human _designed skins of water. He scanned it all coolly, intending to show no emotion on his face; it wouldn't do to annoy the guards of the Fort.

Well, at least not whilst they were still in the walls, anyways.

Buck, however, didn't agree.

"You call this enough?" He ambivalently picked up the strands of dried meat. "...ah...what is this?"

"Meat," He replied. "...apparently."

The weasel rolled his eye, tossing the alleged meat back where he found it,

"'ow these people 'ave lived on _that, _I'll never know," He muttered. "Even T-Rex bones would be a tastier feast!"

Whether it genuinely was hours or not he didn't know, but nothing but relief swept over him when Ben, the bear he had decided had to be the Fort's commander, and Noa emerged from the complex, carrying several more skins of water. The bear dropped them unceremoniously before him, grumbling as he did so.

"There yer go," He grunted. "Bloody Breda, might's well 'ave thrown our pelts in too; yeh've taken everythin' else!"

Noa bowed stiffly,

"I thank you for the victuals, on behalf of the Council of elders I offer you the chance to send a request back to the Regent which can be-"

"Save yer drivel fer someone who cares," The bear spat dismissively. "If t'Council 'ad any care fer us, they'd've sent us t'extra guards we was requestin'. Now off with yer, 'fore yeh decide t'take anymore."

Noa bristled as soon as the bear had walked away from them,

"Ingrate." He muttered under his breath.

"Right!" Buck said breezily. "Now we 'ave made friends with the locals an' apparently robbed 'em of everything they 'ave, who's up for an adventure?"

Ben nodded, glanced about, and paused,

"Sure...but where are the others?"

Diego let out a sigh, rueing the fact that they paid no attention to _Peaches - _adventure hungry, teenage Peaches - in all the time they had been there. He remembered enough of the intricate layers upon layers of rooms, corridors, halls and passages to know they could search for days and still not find them.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

They found most of them in just a few minutes. Peaches - thankfully - hadn't gone far, opting only to have a look at the fort's walls with Roshan.

Sid, however, was still missing.

Diego scanned the base intently until his attention rested on the hangar.

He couldn't explain why he thought the sloth was in there but, as he stood at the entrance to the hangar and peered into its relative gloom he spotted him, half shrouded in darkness.

"Hey Sid!" He called out, hearing his voice echo. "We're going!"

"Just a minute." Sid called back weakly.

A minute passed, and then another, and another. Confused and frustrated, the sabre made his way inwards. Try as he might, he couldn't stop his eyes from wondering, recalling everything that had happened in that one room. He almost swore that he could hear voices from the past echo back at him, seemingly aware that he was there.

He heard Sam, promising peace. He heard Frank murmuring that they were doomed.

He heard the other herd's Manny say goodbye...

None of the memories were particularly happy; even the celebrations with the other herd were bittersweet at best in the years after they had found out how they died.

Coming to a halt beside the sloth, he suddenly didn't feel a need to rush anymore.

"I was standing right here when we said goodbye to them," Sid murmured. "Their Manny actually told our one he missed me..."

"Yeah," He replied, placing a paw gently on the sloth's shoulder. "I know."

Sid's eyes glinted in the low light as he turned to face him,

"We failed them," His voice was so quiet it was barely a whisper. "We weren't there for them when they needed us, and they died. We weren't there for our valley when they needed us, and forty seven died..."

"What are you getting at?"

"We need to make this work, Dee," Sid replied with a force of conviction that caught him by surprise. "Everyone we've promised to look out for we've failed. We're Bredelanders now, and Alaric sits at the gates. We fail in finding them, then millions could-"

"We're _not _going to fail them," He replied earnestly. "We'll sooner die than fail them. On my honour, I swear it."

Sid smiled slightly, eyes drifting to the ceiling,

"You really have those vows to heart, haven't you buddy."

He smiled,

"They were the vows I lived by anyway."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"AARGGH!"

For the hundredth time that day, Diego keeled over his artificial leg, reacting to the all-too-real discomfort. The bright, spacious and airy room they had chosen for his physiotherapy felt like a torture chamber to him, with kindly people - and Manny - looking on anxiously as they inflicted the same torture on him over and over again,

"Come on Diego!" Manny said. "Just a few steps more!"

_Walking._

Not for the first time did the lies of all the doctors and his friends come to mind; _you'll be running soon, this leg is as good as your old one; you'll be back to normal in no time..._

All lies. They were pleasant and soothing lies when he was curled up on his bed.

They were anything but now.

"Do not _rush _me!" Diego snapped, slowly easing himself back up onto his feet. His leg - and everything it was attached to - itched wildly, as if his body wanted nothing to do with it. The fur felt wrong purely because of how _right_ it felt. Even the almost noiseless sounds it made whenever he moved it sounded deafening to his ears. He sighed, shaking his head,

"This isn't going to work." He stated.

_Defeat. _It didn't suit him, yet he was staring it right in the face, laughing at him as it drained what little dignity and honour he had left. No matter what anyone said - be they friends or doctors or the gods themselves - he knew that a sabre that couldn't hunt was no sabre at all.

What, then, was a sabre who couldn't even _walk?_

Non-sabres - a grouping he had slowly come to see himself as - didn't need to adhere so rigidly to honour...at least, that's what he was trying to tell himself. Deep down he knew it wouldn't work; all the pain and discomfort in the world wouldn't drown out the voice in the back of his head, reminding him of his dishonourable defeat.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Manny sigh, piercing him with a look that seemed to him to be the embodiment of pain.

"Could you leave us alone for a minute, guys?" The mammoth said to the wider room.

He silently thanked his old friend for reducing the army of disappointed stares down to just one pair of eyes. Kneeling down beside him, he felt the pachyderm's trunk hold his shoulders gently.

"You've gotta keep trying Dee," Manny said quietly. "You're not going to walk unless you try."

He tried to shrug the trunk off of his shoulder, only to fail feebly. He slumped onto the ground, leaning his face away from his friend.

"Trying hurts," He stated mutedly. "Giving up hurts less."

"That doesn't sound like you," Manny retorted. "You _never _give up."

The truth of it tore at his heart, but he held his ground, instead opting to gesture with his artificial limb,

"That was before. Before..._this._"

"_This?_" Manny remarked in disbelief, eyeing the leg. "This is something special, Dee. It's a-"

"What's so special about it?" He spat back, rounding on his friend. He couldn't be bothered to hide the tears welling in his eyes. "I'm in _pain, Manny. _I have been in pain for months, and for what? This damn thing? I should be _grateful _that I'm gonna live out the rest of my life in suffering, all so that I can _limp_?"

Manny's eyes narrowed slightly, only adding to the tense silence between the two.

"You and I both know that the _only _reason you're still alive is that we have friends in the future," The pachyderm's voice was all too measured, too tonally neutral, to be anything other than forced. "By all rights, you should have died on that battlefield, Dee. Almost no one from _our_ time survives something like that. You _did_."

He lowered his gaze to the floor, unable to look Manny in the eye anymore, lest the guilt grow any stronger.

"Not only did you live after losing your leg," Manny continued. "But they have given you a _new one _that they say will one day be just as good as your old one. How many people from our time have _ever _had that chance?"

"...no one."

"No one," Manny agreed. "No one but _you. _So shut up, quit complaining, and get up off the floor. Sabres don't give up so easily. Remember that."

It was a strange order of affairs when the _mammoth _was acting more like the sabre. Maybe it was the words, maybe it was the emotion and forcefulness behind it - or maybe it was just because it was Manny that said it - but he felt himself rise up off of the ground. The pain and discomfort was all too real for him.

Nevertheless, he managed a smile to his old friend, and walked. It felt glorious to him; nothing could quite compare to the realisation that he was walking again, even if it was with a limp. Not even his crashing to the ground after just six steps detracted from that moment; it was a start, a place they can work from

a second chance.

_I'll be walking in no time, _he decided. _And then, I will run._

He saw the very same thought flash across Manny's face, presenting itself as a proud smile,

"Good!" Manny declared. "Now, let's see if we can walk eight steps now."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Patched up, operated on, bruised and limping though he was, Manny was determined to return to the valley on his own four feet. He still had no memories of his nighttime fall, much less heard anything from his time in the month he had been in the UNTC's hospital wing. Having said his goodbyes to Sam, Terry and James, he clutched the ample pouch of painkillers Nigel had given him, and passed through the portal. Ellie, the possums and Keira were all waiting for him, all of them beaming with joy.

He rushed to embrace Ellie, savouring the feel of her fur on his, the warmth of her body, the sheer _love _he felt between them. Nothing could describe how happy he was to see her after a month without her.

But, as soon as he opened his eyes and looked at the valley behind her, he couldn't escape how confused he felt.

"Ah...Ellie? Is there any reason the main village's been burnt down?"

Her embrace grew a little tighter,

"Yeah...there's been a few changes whilst you've been gone."

"_Whilst I've been gone?..._how long have I-"

"Two weeks," Ellie replied immediately. "And you might wanna sit down before I tell you what happened, sweetie."

Something about those words suggested he would need wine, or painkillers - or both - in the near future. Sure enough, within just a few sentences, his longingly eyed the liquor cabinet. As tales of politics and subversion turned to slaughter, death and violence, he made his move towards it.

_Peaches._

The story froze him in his tracks. No words came to him as he heard how his daughter, still just a child, fought off and helped kill a war party of humans in the midst of the village burning down and dozens of her friends and their families being slaughtered. He struggled to cope with just that notion, letting everything else being said to dissipate in their air without ever truly being heard.

_Peaches...my little princess..._

Atop of the thought of his daughter covered in blood and gore, the loss of so many villagers was merely a dull thud that none the less hurt.

It took him several minutes, a glass of wine and a long, comforting embrace from Ellie for the rest of the news to sink in. Suddenly, the news went from the tragic to the plainly surreal.

"They did _what?_" He spluttered.

Ellie shifted in her seat, sharing furtive glances between the other two present. Mark coughed awkwardly, offering his most awkward smile he could,

"They...went on an expedition..."

He refilled his glass, both because he knew he needed another, and because it hid his anger from the rest of them,

"I told Diego going to find answers out there wasn't a good idea," He muttered.

"After you falling off a cliff, and the village being attacked, _we _thought otherwise," Ellie replied firmly. "...well...kinda...I'm not exactly happy with who went with them..."

Hairs tingled on the back on his neck as those uncertain words drifted from his mate. All of a sudden, he realised he hadn't noticed who was missing when he had arrived, how everyone else had been accounted for in their retellings.

All but one.

"Where is Peaches?" He asked.

The silence alone told him all he needed to know, but he wanted to hear them _say _it.

"_Where_ is Peaches?"

"She's..." Ellie trailed. "...with the expedition."

Distantly, he felt - and heard - his wine glass clatter to the ground, spraying its contents in every direction as it shattered into pieces. If she had been with Frank and Claire in Senweca, or just on the other side of the valley, he could be at peace with it...

But she wasn't; she was in harm's way, and too far for him to even hope to protect her. When he finally turned around, it was a mix of fear and anger that he levelled at those around him,

"Ellie, ya mind telling me why our daughter is on a mission that could get her killed?" He asked coolly.

"I didn't _know,_" She retorted. "I only found out after they left. Claire thinks Ben let her, but I think this has the all the marks of Buck on it, or Diego-"

"Diego wouldn't put her in danger," He spat. "Or Buck, for that matter."

"Ben sees her as his sister, so why would _he_?" Ellie shot back. "It doesn't matter who took her; she is there, and there is nothing we can do about it."

He scanned the area around the homestead keenly,

"Where's Ian?"

"They went in Ian." Mark replied.

_Damn._

He sidestepped the broken glass and slumped to the floor, rueing his absence for so long.

"But they don't even know the area!" He protested. "How do they know where they're going?"

"They have a guide." Keira replied.

He eyed her suspiciously. If there was one thing he was certain of, there was no one in the valley or all the other eighty nine dioceses of the Bredelands who had been so far north.

"What guide? Who are you talking about?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Forests, rivers, mountains, plains...from their vantage point atop a cliff, Roshan saw it all, stretching into the distance. Two hundred miles beyond his new land's borders, he felt comforted just by standing in his old one. He knew, behind him, the herd were simply looking on and marvelling at a prettier part of the world.

For him, it was more than just land; it was the home of his ancestors, whose spirits filled everything from the hares of the fields to the rocks of the mountaintops, guiding those who still lived whenever they sought them out. It was _home_, where - even in death - no man walked alone. One day, when he had grown old and ready to die, he had promised himself he would return to his old homelands, and join with his ancestors.

Dying so far from his true home still secretly held fear for him; he wouldn't wish such a fate on even his enemies.

Which is why he stood there, clutching a sack full of the ashes of the men who tried to kill him, casting his eyes to the horizon. Not even the rustling of the wind could be heard when he finally broke the quiet to speak with the dead in his own tongue,

_"Fathers of my fathers, ancestors of my ancestors, great spirits of old and new spirits recently come, hear my plea this day. These men walked badly, but no man's spirit should be forced to live alone. They died well; take their ashes and welcome them into your company, that you may teach them to guide well we who live and have yet to live."_

The wind picked up almost instantly the moment he turned the sack over, pouring out its contents into the air. Though bits flew in his eyes and into his clothing, he smiled,

_"Our ancestors have welcomed you brothers; go with them; for now your journeys are done."_

For a brief moment, the ashes seemed to swarm him, whisper to him, _thank _him for bringing them home. He stood as still as stone, watching as they finally succumbed to the wind, dispersing themselves on the great lands beyond. He looked on watchfully until the cloud dissipated entirely before turning back to the herd. Standing silently at a respectful distance, all of them looked either bemused or sombre - or both. He let out a sigh, snatching one last glance of the lands before him, picturing the spirits of the men he had helped to kill finding rest,

"It is done," He murmured. "Now we make camp."

Diego frowned, staring past him at the horizon,

"Why'd you do that for them?" He asked. "Why did you cremate them and carry their ashes for _twelve hundred_ miles instead of just burying them in the valley? They tried to kill us."

Anyone with even a _hint _of knowledge about his people would have known how cruel a question that was. But they didn't know; how could they? The only source for it was himself, and he was still getting to grips with their language.

Only then did it strike him how strange his world had become; he had become a citizen of a land that wasn't his own, friends with people who knew nothing of him...

In fact, the only people he had met in the last seven months he had _anything _in common with were the ones he had helped to kill, all to defend the people who had first taken him in as a prisoner. Just that cruel irony alone probably meant he could never truly go home.

If it wasn't so heartbreaking, he would probably laugh at the absurdity of it all.

"They paid for that with death," He replied mutedly. "Worse fate than death to be trapped in lands far from home forever. No man deserves to be alone, and guide no-one."

The understanding in the sabre's nod was betrayed by the confusion in his eyes, but it didn't matter; in time, he knew, he could teach them about his people, make them understand...

But why would he? What would they gain from it? Everything he had seen in the last few months had taught him that humanity was hopelessly - nay, _hilariously - _backwards when compared to the animals south of the border. The Bredelands' culture was more developed than their own in countless ways to count; the Guardians' valley and the Council chambers _alone _could prove that.

Even the arts of war - about which his people took so much pride - paled in comparison to the sheer might of the place they called Halstead, or the brute strength of the Guardians' fire-breathing weapons.

Now, more than ever, he realised that all humanity had to hope for if they tried to fight was death. If betraying everything he was raised to be was the price of saving his people, then he decided it was worth paying.

_Betraying...or renewing?_

The voice came unbidden on the wind, its owner nowhere to be seen. He remembered where he stood, and who he had just spoken to; his ancestors clearly took another view to his own.

He smiled to himself.

"One day, Diego son of Cortez, I explain more to you," He stated. "When I speak your words more strongly. My words not strong enough now."

It took the sabre a few moments to process, but eventually he smiled,

"Best get learning then," He replied. "I'd like to hear it."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The tracks were confusing at best, incomprehensible at worst. All around them they saw the signs of humanity's passing through as they trudged their way through silent forests, muddied waters and missing trees.

When they had first encountered the stumps of dozens of trees, Roshan could simply look on in bemusement. He ordered the truck to a halt, jumped out and knelt beside one, inspecting it keenly.

The marks were rough, blunt, and clearly from a stone axe. Looking up at the swathes of denuded forest, he shook his head in confusion,

"This is strange." He stated.

None of the people staring at him seemed to understand why that was so. He let out a sigh, realising again just how different their two worlds were.

"My people need only little wood, for fire and shelter. This," He stretched out his arm, casting it over the devastation. "This is new."

A dark glance flickered between Diego and Ben before the rest of them latched on,

"So Cartwright has them gathering up wood," Diego muttered.

He nodded slowly,

"This is so. These cuts made recently; no more than two days."

Ben remained silent, only now his rifle was unslung and firmly planted in his hands.

"We need to keep moving," the human said. "Last thing we need is be spotted."

No fires were lit at nights, and barely any sleep was had by any in the party. Days began to blur together as they tracked the humans, each day bringing them tantalising new clues as to their proximity. Then, one day, the tracks became too scattered and confused for them to follow. Roshan stretched, feeling his aching joints creak and groan as he did so. He scanned the cliffs they stood under sourly, wondering if they had travelled all that distance for nothing. His people could be a mile away, or a thousand; he couldn't tell anymore, he was so tired. Nothing made sense to his lumbering, sleep-deprived brain.

"We have lost them," He murmured. He felt a silent tear fall unbidden down his cheek, wiped it with his hand, and stared angrily at it. He knew he was too tired, that everything in him - especially his mental faculties - was weaker than it has been, but that was no excuse for weeping over such a trivial thing. With disgust he flicked it away, casting his ire at the cliffs instead.

"We need to make camp. We're no good if we can't think straight."

Diego nodded slowly, glancing at the cliffs as well as the sun. The sabre looked so tired, he could barely frown,

"Theres a track up the cliff over there," He said sluggishly. "We'll find a safe spot to hide Ian, and make our way up there."

It still surprised him that the truck - of which he was still only becoming accustomed to - could speak to them, and actively discussed the plan with Diego.

What surprised him more, however, was how small its voice seemed; if he didn't know any better, he would have said the truck was scared to be left alone. Yet Ian complied, and was well hidden by the time they had reached to the top of the cliff. Exhausted, he lay down on the ground, staring at the sky, faintly listening to the rest of the herd doing the same. He felt so tired, yet he knew he needed to get up, make a fire, eat some food...

He awoke with a jolt, half sitting up in the process. He stared around in confusion; evening had come and passed, and night was giving way to the grey of predawn.

How did that happen? He didn't remember even closing his eyes, yet he must have. As he sat up and rubbed his eyes, he heard talking in the distance, assumed it to be one of the herd, and ignored it. Even as he lumbered up to his feet and found a quiet spot to relieve himself, the voices persisted, but he paid it no heed.

Relieved, rested, and finally awake, he returned to the slumbering herd and looked for whoever it was that was also awake...

He froze as soon as he realised they were all still laying down, sleeping.

The voices took on a more ominous air. He crouched, grabbed his spear and made his way slowly in their direction. Voices became hundreds of voices as he drew closer. Hundreds, thousands, hundreds of thousands of voices, with the barking of dogs mingling in beneath it.

His heart thundered in his chest as he edged towards the lip of the cliff, already knowing what he was going to see.

The horde was vast, its members illuminated by so many fires that it seemed as if he was staring at a shimmering sea of light. Everywhere he looked, he saw the daily rituals of humanity playing out, from eating and drinking to fighting and practising. Inevitably, his eyes turned to the centre, attracted by the sheer brightness of its fires. Everything seemed to revolve around the centre of the massive encampment, where machines and devices he didn't recognise sprawled around a dais, on which stood a throne.

He studied the man sat on it, at his black hood and cape, at his metal mask, his metal hand...

"_Alaric,"_ He grumbled to himself.

As if hearing him, the metal face looked up at him as a hand rose in greeting. He jumped away from the cliff's edge, warily scanning the forests around him.

"We have to go!" He stated as he rushed back to the herd, shaking and kicking them awake. "We have to go, now! Alaric here! Knows we here! Must go NOW!"

But it was too late; roused and awake though they were, they were already surrounded by dozens of humans, pointing their spears at them. In the corner of his eye, he saw Buck and Ben reach for their guns, only to be stopped by Diego,

"Outnumbered," Was all the sabre whispered to them.

He knew Diego was right, but he wanted to fight; surrendering would almost certainly mean death for him.

But not surrendering would be death for all of them. Begrudgingly, he let his spear fall to the floor,

"_Take us to Alaric," _He told his captors, thinking quickly as to what to say that might keep them alive.

"_We bring a message from the _Bredelands_ for him."_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Terry stormed through the corridors, newspapers clutched tightly in his hand. Most people wouldn't stand in his way even when he was in a good mood, but today the look on his face alone warned them to say absolutely nothing to him. He slammed his way through the doors into the Command, Control and Communications centre - though he, everyone else and their mothers have always just called it the C3 - scanned idly over its bays of computers, screens and desks, and cursed under his breath.

He spotted a lowly private dawdling on a computer, clearly playing a game. On a normal day, he would have berated him, warned him not to do it again and carry on with his day.

It wasn't a normal day. Not by far.

"YOU!" He said, pointing accusingly. The private practically jumped out of his chair in shock, only just balancing himself out to stand.

The private looked so young; he could practically see the green in him.

"Sir!" The private squeaked. "I-I-I-"

"Ain't interested in yer poxy excuses," Terry growled. "Just one thing I'm lookin' for from you; where's the SecGen?"

"S-s-she's not here sir! She's gone to the Bredelands, sir. For a ceremony, sir!"

_Ceremony? _He groaned and rolled his eyes as soon as his mind caught up with him.

"Goddamit," He grumbled, slamming his way back through the door.

He jogged through the hallways, turning and weaving, intent to get to the main 'casting chamber. Even after so many decades of work at the UNTC, he could never quite get over just how big the room was; one moment he was running through corridors, then they simply ceased.

He had no time for marvelling, or even stopping.

"Open portal one!" He shouted, craning his neck to the large windows he knew the gate controls hid behind. "Same co-ordinates as SecGen! NOW!"

Without slowing down, he ran up the ramp towards the portal, now flickering in all its silvery glory. On a normal day, he would probably congratulate them on their efficiency.

_Win some, ya lose some, _he thought, plunging himself through the portal.

The world on the other side could not have been more antithetical to his mood if it tried. From his vantage point beside the herd's homestead, he could see the valley's main village was crammed full of people, their chattering and laughing drifting so strongly, they might as well have been standing beside him. For the first time that morning, he looked down at the newspaper crumpled in his hand, and questioning whether it could wait.

He took one more look at the headline, and ran down the hill as fast as he could.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Everything around her was surreal, purely because of how familiar it all felt. Rudimentary tables had been laid out in the streets, with a small mountain of food being laid out as hundreds of the valley's citizens came out to witness such a historic events. A gentle breeze drifted through the flowers and leaves hung from the houses as leathery flags flapped above her head. Sam smiled, relishing the sights and sounds of a joyful people and all that came with it, knowing all too well how rarely she had a chance to enjoy life these days. Her smile faded slightly at the thought. In the corner of her eye, she could see Frank glancing at her,

"It's strange how life works out," He said. "We spend all our time protecting the world so that they can enjoy life and, because we're always protecting it, we never get to do so ourselves."

She smiled at him wanly, tapping her fingers gently against the back of her hand,

"I wondered if there was a reason for your..._antics..._at the Barrowboy."

He let out a grunt, grabbing a wineskin from a nearby table, only then to look at it distantly,

"I didn't mean to do that," He murmured. "But we've not had the easiest of times, Sammy," He took a swig, wincing at its strength. "We're being run into the ground with everyones' demands from us...it would be fine if they only asked every so often, but it is _all the time._"

She wanted to agree with him, confide in him about all of her own similar wearinesses.

But she was the Secretary General of the UNTC, having come to represent the Commission, and Frank had chosen the _worst _time to berate it; even what little has been said had already drawn a few interested ears.

"Run into the ground?" She replied, smiling as convincingly as she could. "That's not what I see; I see heroes who keep on giving."

Frank eyed her with confusion. Then, as he scanned their surroundings briefly, he smiled and leaned forward,

"Have you looked at Buck recently?" He whispered into her ear bluntly. "Look me in the eye and tell me he's the same happy-go-lucky weasel you remember. Or Diego and his missing leg, or Manny and-"

"Of course I notice," She replied earnestly. "You know I notice, and you know it kills me inside to see it, but we're all suffering right now. No one asked us to be what we are, they just assumed. I wish I could change it - really I do - but-"

"I know," He smiled wanly at her, gently curling his arm around her into a hug. She embraced it, treasuring it; for one brief moment she wasn't the Secretary General of the UNTC, bold and brave and fearless.

She was Sam Howard again, and she wasn't hugging a Guardian, just her older brother.

It felt good to shed the mask.

She was tired of the role she lived and breathed every day; nothing would make her happier than to go back to the good old days where she could do as she pleased. She knew Frank wanted the same thing; they all did.

_We're all trapped, _she realised. _Trapped by what everyone else needs us to be._

"How did we come to this?" She murmured into Frank's jacket.

Frank chuckled mirthlessly,

"We're the herd that helps," He replied. "And we're apparently too dumb to stop when we're ahead."

"Amen to that!" She laughed.

Having disentangled from their embrace, she knew deep down she had to resume the role of Secretary General but, if she were honest with herself, she couldn't be bothered; she was twenty thousand years from her office and - as far as she was concerned - back home.

And there was a party happening around her. Giving her brother a mischievous smirk, she snatched his wineskin from him, took a swig, and spat it all out,

"Good _God!_" She exclaimed in disgust. "What is this stuff?"

Frank grinned,

"It's the local wine."

She could do little else but stare,

"That was _wine?_ But it tasted like feet!"

He took the skin, took a swig, and shrugged,

"Given what I've learnt about the how the weasels make the stuff up at Pike's Peak, I'm willing to bet that's _authentic_ feet taste you noted. But it's better than the water at least."

"How could _that _be better than water?"

To her amazement, he shrugged again,

"More than five thousand people have moved here in the last seven months, and none of them seem to know much about hygiene; apparently, much of the rest of the 'lands doesn't think of bathing in, drinking from and relieving oneself into the same water source as a bad idea."

Suddenly the foot-wine sounded more appetising. She took another swig, this time resisting the urge to spit it out. The taste of wine was faintly tangible, though she couldn't escape the feety taste. Frank, seemingly oblivious to her struggles with the drink, rambled on,

"Claire actually made a campaign promise to send out builders from the Val do Resto to the rest of the Bredelands; her thinking is that, if they have the same lifestyle, they won't move here," He smiled slightly. "Ellie's promise was a little more pragmatic; she simply stated she'd ensure we built a better sanitation system, whereas Mark jokingly promised to build a wall to keep most of the newcomers out. Oddly, Mark seems to be ahead in the polls."

Once more, she spat out her drink, wondering privately whether she was dreaming as her situation made less and less sense to her,

"The _polls?_"

Frank beamed with pride, glancing at the village around them,

"It was the villagers' idea, actually," He stated. "I swear, the less we do for them, the more they seem to come into their own."

She struggled for words, opted to take another swig instead and swallowed, even as she wrestled with the lingering aftertaste. To her relief, another spoke up,

"Using your time honoured diplomatic skills again, Frank?"

Frank's face lit up into a grin as Hudson, Ellie and Claire padded into view. Having given Claire and Ellie a hug, she turned to James and smiled.

The wolf was a welcome sight for Sam; a veritable ship of sarcastic honesty in a sea of confusing realities. Hudson took one look at her face and smirked,

"Enjoying the local drink?" He asked, even as his gaze suggested he knew the answer.

She thrust out the skin almost too eagerly, nearly smacking him around the head with it,

"It's..._ecstatic. _You should try some."

"I have done," He remarked dryly. "And I'd sooner lick my _own_ feet than try it again."

"Yeah," Ellie stated. "We tried asking once if the weasels could wash their feet before making it, but the wine's been feetier ever since...these days we just try and ignore it."

She looked up at the two women now standing beside her, fully realising just how important a day it was for them. In both of their faces, behind the smiles and excitement, she saw an anxiety she knew all too well.

"I'm afraid it's just myself and James who've come," She said apologetically. "The Commissioners thanked you for the invite, and send their apologies."

It rankled her that she had to lie on their behalf. Claire smirked,

"They couldn't be bothered is what you mean."

"Something along those lines," She sighed. "It's a wonder they fit through the doors with their inflated egos; the truth is they didn't think that 'a small-town election in a backwater part of time' to be worthy of them."

"But you do," Ellie smiled, placing her trunk on Sam's shoulder. "And that's all that matters to us. Thanks for coming, Sam. It means a lot that you're here."

Moments like that made her question why she was still at the UNTC; her heart was never truly there, but in the valley with the herd. It always had been, ever since she shared their adventures so many years ago. She longed to be there, where _history _was happening, not sat atop it.

_We're all trapped, _she thought again. _Except I want their prison instead of mine._

"This is my home," She replied. "And you're my family; I can't think of where else I'd rather be."

She knew they wanted to keep talking, to chat and laugh and regale, but messenger birds landed on their shoulders, whispering excitedly at them. Claire's eyes widened, a nervous smile planting itself squarely on her face,

"We've been called up to the dais; results are being called out," She said quickly. In quick succession she kissed Frank, ruffled James' fur, and reached out to give Sam's hand a squeeze. "We'll talk after."

"Good luck!" Sam called out as they disappeared into the crowds. Almost as soon as they had vanished, she caught a glimpse of the nominees on the dais, Regents William and Roshan standing beside them, Chancellor Theodora - still with a few bandages wrapped around her - beside them, with Max and his Chancellor's Guard beside her...

And Terry running towards her.

"Sam!" He called out. "We need to-"

"Shh!" She said, raising up her hand.

"But Sammy!" He protested. "This-"

"-can wait a few minutes," She replied. Not once did her eyes leave the dais.

Whatever he had to say, she could tell it was both bad and important; for nothing else does her husband shift and fidget and grumble so readily. But that was news for the Secretary General, and thus she reckoned it could wait; she wanted to just be Sam Howard for a few moments longer, and she wanted to give her friends the attention they deserved. Begrudgingly, Terry grumbled, but stood beside her all the same.

"Citizens!" Max's voice boomed. "Honoured guests, nominees, brothers and sisters! Pray silence!"

Hushed and excited silence fell upon the whole village, every set of eyes now watching as a messenger bird sat on Max's shoulder, clearing his throat,

"By the will of the People, the Council, and Breda, elections for the position and honour of the role of elder have been held in this diocese. Nine nominees have fought for the six available offices for the ninetieth diocese of the 'lands, and the votes have been counted. It is with great pleasure that I announce the following results, ordered from those who gained the most votes to the least,"

The pause was nothing if not cruel. Even though she didn't even live there, she leant forward, waiting with baited breath.

"With six thousand, one hundred and twenty three votes...Claire Howard-"

The bird was completely cut off as the village's square erupted into cheering, hugging and whooping. Even Terry - with his all important bad news - got into the spirit, gleefully pumping his fist into the air as he cheered, whilst giving Sam a hug with his other arm. Eventually the noise died down, and the bird continued,

"With five thousand, nine hundred and seventy votes...Keira-"

Each name brought new cheers and celebrations, each name being greeted with ever louder and more enthusiastic noise. She drank it in, joining in the excitement eagerly, as the rest of the names were read out; Ellie, Mark, Ronald and Ben's names all rang out across the village. The atmosphere was electric, bringing into sharp relief the reality that none of the people she was surrounded by had ever truly had the chance to decide who led them, and they took to it like bees to honey. Whether from the sheer emotion of the moment, or from the thought, she felt a big tear of joy streak down her face.

She was grinning like an idiot and swigging from the nearest wineskin by the time the bird had finished speaking,

"Therefore the Council of the Bredelands recognises this diocese and its rights of self determination in perpetuity, and its choices of elders," The bird turned to the new elders - the losers had silently departed from the dais - and bowed. "And it is with great joy that I speak to you Keira, Eleanor, Marcus, Benjamin, Ronald, Claire: I hereby declare you the winners of the elections, and the new elders of the Val do Resto."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The sun had long since set on the festivities, but the villagers opted for torches and fires rather than call it a day. The wind blew softly on Sam's reddening cheeks, carrying with it the music and laughter of a people who had tasted democracy and savoured it. She leant on one of the pillars of the homestead, smiling down on the patchwork of fires as she took a quiet breather from the party going on behind her.

Her face felt incredibly warm, her balance was slightly off and her mind slightly muggy. It wasn't a pleasant experience for her, but she knew that she wasn't _drunk - _only tipsy - and even that was because the water wasn't up to scratch. She could allow herself one day of excess, she figured.

For a brief moment, she frowned; in the midst of the celebrating, she remembered Terry running up to her, but she couldn't remember why.

Glancing casually behind her at her raucously laughing, evidently drunk husband, she wasn't sure whether he'd even know his _name _anymore, letalone why he had rushed there that day.

"Terry!" She called out.

"Shyeah, boss?" He said, still grinning stupidly.

"What was it you needed to tell me?"

His eyed clouded for a moment, only for the grin to come back, wider than ever,

"It wash important," He stated, flippantly gesturing to the only wall in the building. "I put it on the deshk."

Carefully tiptoeing around slumbering herd members, she finally reached the table, immediately spotting an incredibly crumpled newspaper in amongst the various items the herd had placed on display. She shot a confused glance back at Terry before picking it up,

_Why has he brought me this? _She wondered.

She flipped it over, pressing down with her hands to smooth it out, curious as to what she'd find.

Her heart felt like it stopped.

Almost a dozen pictures were arrayed in a square, each of them showing a picture of the herd members - none of them aware that they were being photographed - under the headline: ARE THESE THE GUARDIANS?

All she could do was stare in growing horror at the front page, realising then that her world had begun to turn upside down.

"God help us," She muttered.

Their secret was out.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Silence seemed to greet them as their guards' ushered people aside, dragging Roshan and his herd through the crowds. Childrens' heads popped out of tents to stare uncomprehendingly whilst their mothers and fathers looked on in shock, disbelief, and anger. Seemingly submerged into a sea of humanity, Roshan suddenly became all too aware of the presence of spears and bows in the hands of men glaring hatefully at him.

The hate surprised him somewhat. Granted, he had been captured, and granted, he had been absent for almost eight months, but he didn't understand why that was solid grounds for hate; he had done nothing that hundreds of other men had not done before. Well, except for the vowing part; he was pretty sure he was the first to do that, but then they shouldn't know of that, what with it happening hundreds of miles away and in another world.

_What have they been told? _He wondered. A glance to the left and the right of him at his beleaguered companions, however, made him realise how it must look to them;

The chief's son has returned, and has brought Bredelanders to spy on them.

It felt almost like relief when they were finally thrown to the ground before the throne, until he remembered who sat there. For as long as he could, he kept his eyes fixed on the ground, determined not to give the so-called king the time of day; in fact, if he could do so, he wanted not to see his face at all. In the corner of his eye, he saw Sid eyeing the machines and devices peppering the site around them with obvious fear.

"_Son_?"

The voice jolted him upright. As he knelt there in the dirt, he quickly took note of twelve men standing beside the king's throne, his gaze finally fixing on the one nearest the throne.

No words came to him at first, only shame. Though none of them knew it yet, he knew that he would soon be cursed for a traitor; the facts of _why _would not be considered, even for a moment.

Slowly, agonisingly, he looked up at his father. Runar was the chieftain of the largest tribe of all humanity, and it showed in how close he stood to the king. Age had not taken much from his father; the colour of his hair had long started on its road to grey, and he had a few wrinkles around his eyes, but all that did was to frame the powerful stare coming his way from a powerful face, set resolutely atop a powerful body.

"_Father,_" He croaked. "_Forgive me._"

He could see Runar's two natures battling for control; for his sake, he hoped the Father would win out over the Leader.

Except it never worked that way; though the eyes were torn and uncomprehending, the rest of his father's stature conveyed the same barely-concealed hostility that everyone else did. Unable to bear _that _stare anymore, he turned to the gaze he could deal with.

Alaric was nothing if not imposing on his makeshift throne. Even in the pre-dawn light, he could see the metal hand that had mystified so many and the metal face that had scared more still.

He remembered how some had spoken, in hushed whispers, that he was an evil spirit come to end humanity. Others murmured that he was the Dark that would bring them Light. If he were honest, he wasn't sure what to make of the king, except that _nothing_ about him felt right.

Alaric looked on, studying the kneeling group before him before chuckling.

"I see you have returned, son of Runar."

_English?_

He stared at the king incredulously, eyes occasionally twitching to the people surrounding them. Why was he speaking in a language none of them understood?

The realisation hit him like a thud to the chest. He wanted to stand up and explain himself there and then, but he knew it would get them all killed.

_Two can play at this game, _he decided.

"_I have returned,_" He answered.

Alaric grunted, turning his attention off of himself,

"Ah," He said with obvious glee. "I see you have brought some of the herd to me as well. How thoughtful of you."

Diego stared at him hatefully,

"Why don't you come a little closer, _Cartwright,_" He growled. "Nothing would make me happier then to see you up-close."

This amused him more, to all of their ire,

"And suffer the same fate as the unlamented Soto? I think not," He gave a dismissive flick of his metal hand. "I have already killed you once before anyw-"

"Say that again, and I will rip your throat out before your guards can even _flinch_," Diego spat.

Though they did not understand Diego's words, they understood his tone all too well. Dozens of weapons were suddenly raised and frantic orders quickly barked. As quickly as he could, he placed a hand firmly on the sabre's shoulder to draw his attention, forcing him to calm down.

In the corner of his eye he could see the spears lower slightly as Diego relented.

Alaric did not move once during the whole time, his eyes hidden under his cowl. Not even the light reflected off of his metal mask illuminated them.

"So, Roshan, I hear you have come to deliver me a message from the Bredelands?"

_"I have," _He replied.

Shifting the weight of his head onto his hands, the masked king seemed to study him intently,

"It is tiring to try and have a conversation in two different languages," He stated. "How about you speak with me in this tongue?"

_"I prefer one where _everyone_ can understand me." _He left the rest of it unsaid, though he knew the meaning got across;

_I want them to know what _I_ said, not whatever lie you tell them afterwards._

Alaric chuckled, nodding his head in satisfaction,

"Very clever. It's a shame you turned traitor; a man of your intelligence would have been useful to me. Although, given your current company, I suspect that might have only been a flash of insight, as opposed to anything genuinely-"

_"I have not come to be insulted," _He snapped, resisting the urge to smile as people began whispering around him. _"I have come to ask you a question, Alaric King._"

_"Have the poor frightened souls in _your_ 'lands beyond finally seen sense and surrendered?"_ Alaric said matter-of-factly, switching into the human's language.

_"No,_" He replied. _"I have come to demand why thirty men came to kill me, the son of the chief of the Danaru."_

Though he could not see his eyes, he sensed Alaric's moved quickly around him, noting the more urgent whispering that flickered through his people. With a swift soundless motion the King stood up, gesturing to several of the guards,

_"Bring them to my tent,"_ He commanded. _"I would speak with them alone."_

Evidently mistrusting their ability to walk there themselves, yet more guards grabbed them and began to drag them through the mud. Behind him, he could hear Diego, Buck and Ben resisting. With not a single set of friendly eyes - not even his father's - it struck him that they were in far more danger than he at first realised.

"Stop that now!" He hissed at the struggling prisoners. "Anymore, and they will spear us."

Whether it was the words, or the tone - or even the fearful gaze he undoubtedly had at that moment - they stilled, begrudgingly giving into their guards' ministrations.

Turning back, he looked for Alaric's telltale black cloak, only he was nowhere to be seen. Looking left and right, he found himself at a loss. In front of them, a tent large enough to be a meeting place blocked their forward path; he reckoned the King's tent to be beyond it. To his surprise, when they swept through its entrance, Alaric was waiting for them. By the standards he had grown accustomed to in the valley, there was nothing special about the tent they were in; a central fire was crackling away merrily, its smoke wafting up into a hole in the roof. There were a few spots made for bedding, with stone basins full of water beside them, and the odd spear stood untended against the walls.

Spartan one might call it; even the villagers of the herd's valley had more impressive homes. But he knew it was far from it; by human standards, it was almost _opulent_. To his further surprise, the guards simply dumped them on the ground, and left without a word.

No doubt, they were merely waiting outside; no-one would be dumb enough to leave their leader in the presence of enemies.

Alaric looked on, waiting for the guards to be truly outside. _What is he waiting for? _He pondered. He stifled a gasp in his throat as the King drew his cowl back and pulled off the mask, only to reveal the face of a man beneath it. Whilst the expressions of all but Peaches darkened, he couldn't help but feel disappointed. For many years Alaric had been amongst them and ever since he had arrived there had always been rumours as to who, where, or even _what _he was.

He was just a man. Having overcome his disappointment, he stared at the face of the man who ruled over them, realising slowly that something was deeply wrong with what he saw. What struck him first was the metal that crept up his neck only to end behind his ears, framing his face in wrongness.

When he finally looked at Alaric's face, however, he _did _gasp.

"Mate," Buck murmured beside him. "Are you seeing wot I'm seeing?"

"Yeah," Diego remarked, his anger displaced by wariness. "They're-"

"_Red_?" Cartwright finished, giving them all a disdaining smile. "A few things have changed in the decade or so since you last saw me. Like how you are now my prisoners, and I am now a king."

"That could change quickly, _Cartwright,_" Ben muttered. "Seeing as we are closer to you than your guards are."

He seemed more amused at the threat than alarmed,

"The thought crossed my mind, but you aren't going to kill me."

"An' 'ow did ya come to reckon that?" The weasel asked curtly.

"You can kill me if you wish, but it wouldn't truly help you," Cartwright replied casually. "Whilst I would be dead so also would you; there are one hundred and twenty thousand humans here that will ensure it. And whilst I am certain you would deem it a..._noble..._sacrifice, I somehow doubt dear Manfred would appreciate you deciding that for his _only_ child."

_Peaches. _In all of the excitement of the last hour, her presence had slipped his mind. He pursed his lips, unwilling to admit the king was right.

"And that's without considering the _wider _implications," Cartwright continued, oblivious to their uncomfortable looks between one another. "As it stands, we have no true reason to go south, except for the fact that the lands have become a little sparse of late. Kill me, and the humans will cry vengeance, and will no doubt... _console _themselves over my passing by feasting on your 'lands and, probably, its' residents," He gave them a cruel smile, his eyes never leaving them as he stood up and grabbed a spear. "So killing me is out of the question. _You, _on the other hand..."

He tensed up, preparing himself mentally; if he were to die that day, he would ensure that Alaric joined him.

"...you will go home. Back to your precious Bredelands, and you will tell them _everything._"

Words failed him. In all of his short life, Roshan had seen his fair share of oddness; sabres and mammoths and sloths taking care of him were one of his earliest memories. Animals and civilisation and wonders too great for humans to readily conceive were some of his more recent ones. All of it in its own way had led him into the dirt before a king, who had every right to kill him.

And yet the king was no only sparing his life, but sending him back to the lands he was now sworn to.

"You're letting us go?" Diego said. "Why?"

Cartwright smirked,

"Because you're honest, or because I might still have a soul-"

"I doubt that," Diego cut in sharply. "Men with souls don't kill unarmed children."

The king's smile faltered, but he continued all the same,

"Or maybe it is because I know you will report everything you've seen, and it will then get discussed in your Council. Once they know our numbers, people will talk, and they will fear..." He shrugged. "Or you go home and tell them nothing, in which case they will be none the wiser when we come, and they will die cursing your names. Especially seeing as two of you just swore to protect their precious little realm."

The sabre's eyes grew wary,

"You've never been to the Bredelands," He stated. "How do you know so much about it?"

Even as Diego spoke, Cartwright was occupied with his mask and cowl, replacing them all to their correct places. When he turned to look at them, his red eyes were once more concealed, only the glint of a metal face staring back at them.

"Through forces unseen, master sabre, through forces unseen..._GUARDS_!"

In an instant, five men with spears bustled into the room.

"_I have finished speaking with these people,_" Alaric said. _"Say to Runar that he is to lead them south for a day, and leave them there."_

The guards looked amongst themselves in confusion,

_"Alaric, these people are enemies. We should kill the-"_

_"YOU WILL DO NO SUCH THING!" _Cartwright boomed. He planted the butt of the spear firmly on the ground, breathing calmly. "_...you are to do as I say, or I shall see to it that you all meet unpleasant deaths. Am I understood?"_

Moments later, he was back in the throng of humanity, only they were no longer prisoners. Nothing made sense anymore, but he didn't care; he was alive, and he was to see his father for a day at least.

Plenty of time to convince him of the truth.

Diego and Ben, however, did not look pleased. It was their urgent whispering that drew his attention to them. Cocking his head, he shot them a grin,

"What troubles you?"

Ben glanced about him conspiratorially as he leant in,

"Through forces unseen."

The phrase meant nothing to him, but he realised that it did to them,

"What of it?" He asked.

Diego let out a sigh,

"It's a..._title..._our old enemies like to use. They killed people close to us long ago, and now they're here, controlling Cartwright."

He shrugged,

"We knew this. You said shadows controlled Cartwright even back in valley."

The sabre shot him an incredulous stare,

"Weren't you listening?"

"Of course I listen," He suddenly didn't feel so sure; English was still a relatively new language to him. "What did I miss?"

"He said it _after _I asked how he knew so much about the Bredelands; he's never been there, and especially not recently enough to know about our little stunt in the Council."

"So?" Roshan asked.

"_So,_" Ben continued. "There can only be one real explanation."

Diego sighed again, sensing his confusion,

"There's a spy on the Council," He murmured. "And whoever it is is telling Alaric _everything_."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_I don't understand why this couldn't wait..._

_How could you sleep knowing this?..._

The voices echoed faintly in the air, dissipating into the cavernous mass of the UNTC's 'casting hall. As a portal flickered into life, Sam stormed through it, followed begrudgingly by Hudson. The wolf wiped his bleary eyes, idly glancing at his watch,

"Oh I could have slept well actually; it's not like we needed to go _now_," He murmured. "We're travelling through _time, _not the tube; we could go anywhere, anywhen, from anytime with no delays and an almost-Swiss precision. And right now it is four AM, which strikes me as an hour that sleep ought to be had. Especially after all of that - how did you describe it? - ah yes, that's right, 'hard partying to celebrate the elections'."

"I know what you're saying," Sam replied, her pace never wavering. "But my sense of anxiety doesn't play by the rules of time travel. Or partying."

Hudson looked on at her, rolled his eyes, and ran to catch up.

"It's just a newspaper article!" He argued, narrowly missing a double door closing on him. "This is a free and open society; it's perfectly possible that they did some investigating! It's not like we've been hiding them away! They've been roaming the streets for months now!"

"It _might _just be that," Sam conceded, her pace quickening. "_Or _it could be a warning to us."

Before he could reply she swerved left, pushing open the doors to the C3. She was so wound up she didn't even notice the snoring private slumped over a console as she jumped into the nearest chair. Keying in her command codes a wealth of data, reports, statistics and video feeds sprung onto her screen. She frowned,

"Nothing," She muttered. "Nothing at all."

"Call security, and ask if everything's alright." Hudson said, hoping that helping her would speed himself on to bed.

She scanned about her, reaching out for the nearest phone.

_"Operator."_

"This is Secretary General Daniels; patch me through to security please."

_"One moment," _She listened to several clicks and buzzes before an entirely different voice spoke. _"Yes, ma'am?"_

"Is everything all right?"

_"Nothing dangerous to report ma'am, just some problems with the prisoner in cell block 1138."_

Sam sat bolt upright,

"Thank you," She slammed the phone onto the table, looking at Hudson with an intense gaze as she jumped to her feet. "Our prisoner is causing problems."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

James could hear his screaming from several corridors away. It was bloodcurdling, raw, terrified; it was the scream of a man who had lost everything. Following closely after Sam, he turned one corner after another, nearing the screams with every paw. All around him, the scenery began to change; doors became cells and the lights became dimmer.

He had never actually visited the cell blocks; having seen them, he decided he would like to continue not visiting them if he had a choice.

The screaming was almost inhumanly loud by the time they encountered a gaggle of guards struggling against the one lone man. For a brief moment, Sam slowed to a halt, as if taken by surprise by the sight. She shook her head, and the shock was gone, replaced by a steely gaze.

"What is going on here?" She demanded, walking up to the nearest guard that wasn't wrestling with the prisoner.

The bear spun around with an angry gaze, only realising mid-spin _who _was approaching. Almost instantly he looked on fearfully, stretching out his paw,

"Stay back, ma'am!" He called out. "This man is dangerous!"

"In more ways than you know," She said, turning her attention on the screaming prisoner. "CARTWRIGHT!"

Thankfully, the screaming stopped. With some faint trace of sense returning into his green eyes, Cartwright froze in his struggles to look at them. He was pale, sweating, and had the least comfortable stare Hudson had ever faced; Cartwright seemed to stare _through _them, as if they were nothing but ghosts.

"They're coming." He murmured.

The guards saw their opportunity, bundling the man back into his cell.

"They're coming!" He shouted out. The guards slammed the door shut and locked it. As soon as it shut, Cartwright slammed himself against the door, bashing his fists against the walls.

"THEY'RE COMING! THEY'RE COMING! THEY'RE COMING!" He wailed.

"Who are?" Sam demanded, edging closer to the door.

"_They _are!" He shouted frantically. "Shadows and ghouls and remnants of ghosts come to be the fall of the guards!"

The guard beside them snorted,

"This guy's insane."

"FORCES UNSEEN WILL COME LIKE SHADOWS IN NIGHT! THEY'RE COMING!" Cartwright's strength seemed to fail him; he crumpled to the floor and wept. "They're coming...they're coming..."

All longing for his bed had long since gone from Hudson. Sharing a nervous look with Sam, he knew all too well that she was right to move when she did.

"We need to warn them," He murmured urgently. "They could attack at any moment."

Sam stared darkly at Cartwright's cell door. The man's sobs had grown ragged, even distraught.

"That is," She muttered. "If they haven't attacked already."

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**End of Chapter 9**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**What did you think? Let me know by clicking on that sultry blue button beneath this text :)**

**I don't have anything else left to say so, until chapter 10, adieu**


	10. Eternal Essences Thus Distraught

**Hello everyone!**

**Yes, I'm back! I'm really sorry I've been missing for the last 5 months, but thank you to all the people who have read, favourited and reviewed both this story and Origins.**

**So you might be wondering where on earth I've been, and I will tell you! At the bottom of the page; for now, and without further ado...**

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

Not for the first time did Frank wonder what he had done to deserve his fate. It had been almost three weeks since the messenger bird carrying a rather irate message from Halstead Pass' commander informed them of the expedition's passage through the fort. Noa's constant fluttering between the disparate parts of the Bredelands on their behalf had only served to confirm that there was no word or sighting of the expedition from any of the northern passages.

No doubt they were having disgusting amounts of adventure and excitement.

There was plenty of messages coming out of the Val do Resto, however; sometimes he wondered whether Manny was making up for the rest of the herd's silence. In amongst the seas of requests to know about the expedition's - by which Manny always meant Peaches' - whereabouts, Keira managed to slip in information that he and Claire actually _wanted_ to know; that the valley's reconstruction was going well, the injured were recovering nicely, and life was returning to normal.

Eventually it annoyed him that he didn't even have to deal with the Council most of the time; every day spent not grumbling about the lack of politics to take his mind off of things was another he spent worrying about his friends. He knew it wasn't always like that; at first, he was relieved that it only met one week a month, but that was _before_ he remembered he was hundreds of miles from his books, his friends, and his whiskey.

Residing every day in Senweca would have quickly become tiresome had it not been for Claire and the promise of the great outdoors. For the first few days, he felt he needed to play the part of Elder Frank, stalwartly staying by his wife's side as they tried to understand the political life of the land they had found themselves a part of.

Even before the first day ended, it became abundantly clear to them that she was suited to navigating the Bredelands' labyrinthine political systems, almost as much as he wasn't. It wasn't long after the frankly unsurprising discovery that he began touring the lands around Senweca, always keen to ensure he never went further than a half day's walk from the cave they quickly resorted to calling home.

Somehow, Claire never seemed surprised; she would give him a warm smile as he attempted to edge himself out of a meeting - there were _always _meetings; hundreds of elders with hundreds of motives seemed keen on winning Claire to one side or another, primarily, it seemed, through mindless small talk - to escape into the freedom of space and air beyond. It went on for at least a week before she finally spoke up about it. Having somehow found a skin of the 'wine' of Pike's Peak and some bacon, she beckoned him to follow her if he wanted to have breakfast. Intrigued and confused, his bewilderment only deepened when she came to a stop on the spot where Manny fell and sat to eat. Sensing she was still mulling over whatever reason had brought them there, he took a swig of the wine and chomped down on some bacon, hoping it would overpower the taste of feet that lingered in his mouth.

It didn't.

"There's something not quite right here." Claire finally said.

_This _was the thing she was pondering? He knew he scarcely hid his incredulity; they were sitting on the spot where _Manny - _lumbering mountain of a pachyderm though he was, he wasn't clumsy - almost fell to his death. She caught a glimpse of his eyes and shook her head, knowing what he was thinking,

"Not _that_. Something else."

It occurred to him that she might have spent too long in the company of elders; that, or she forgot that he wasn't psychic. The silence dragged on too long, forcing him to say something - anything - to break it,

"What do you mean?"

She let out a sigh, casting her eyes across the sweeping vista before them. He had been there long enough to know that they were staring at the Wildernesse Plains and its forest, imaginatively _also _called Wildernesse. Before he could begin wondering _why _they were called it, Claire finally continued,

"It's...hard to explain," She murmured, turning back to him. "Over the last few days, I've been asking the elders questions about the Bredelands, how it all came together, about its past."

"And what did you find?" He asked awkwardly, a strip of bacon already in his mouth. He strained to recall when Claire had ever done such things; no doubt he had dismissed it as idle chatter.

"This place is old - centuries at least, _millennia _if the stories are true - but that wasn't why I'm telling you this," She let out another sigh, immediately making him nervous.

"I think the Bredelands didn't come about _naturally._"

For one reason or another, the statement didn't surprise him deep down. Ever since they had first set eyes on the Council's chambers, he had been bewildered by how such an advanced and sophisticated society could exist _before _the initial crude and plain societies that the former always grew from. His head had accepted that it just simply _was_; empirical proof didn't seem so important for such a matter.

Hearing it from Claire's mouth, however, made it seem different; even the way she phrased it made it seem more ominous to his ears. He also knew that she was raising it because she wanted _him _to look into it. He smiled ruefully at how easily she had gotten used to delegation.

"I want you to look around, go out into the dioceses, ask questions-"

"-And figure out what was done to make the Bredelands, the Bredelands?" He finished for her.

She smiled wanly,

"I'm getting the impression I will be too busy with elders' meetings to do any of it myself."

He gave her a hug, grinning as they settled back to survey the beautiful sight before them.

"To be honest, I'm glad I can go out and have a look," He murmured.

"I know," She replied, giving him a mischievous smirk. "The thought crossed my mind about suggesting _I _go, and _you _stay."

He smiled,

"Forced to stay inside and sit through endless meetings..."

"I'm pretty sure that would be your idea of hell." She stated.

He hugged her closer, cupping the top of her head with his chin,

"Yeah...I suppose it would be."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"You have got to be kidding!" Frank fumed, eyes levelling directly at Sam and Helen. "You want to put us under _house arrest_ because of a newspaper article and a madman's cryptic remarks?"

He took in the scene in front of him; the cavernous room they had met in was one of the seemingly endless meeting rooms the UNTC's HQ seemed to have tucked within itself, with no furniture or embellishments save a lone screen on the furthest wall and the table which they sat around. The herd - complete for the first time in months with Diego's presence, frail though he looked - sat seething on one side of the table, staring with a mix of non-understanding and anger at the other side of the table.

To Hudson's credit, he had the grace to look ashamed, albeit subtly. Sam, Terry and the interminable Judge Johnson, however, all sat with expressions more reminiscent of negotiators discussing terms with terrorists. He knew it was a show - there was no way they could possibly feel good about themselves and the decision they had made - but it angered him all the same.

"This is not a threat to be ignored," Sam replied calmly. "The Remnan-"

"Is that 'ow it is?" Buck snapped. "The Remnant send a warning and we 'ave to go into 'iding like frightened children?"

"You aren't going into-"

Manny's eyes narrowed, "Yes we are. You've just told us we are prisoners."

"This is not how you treat your allies." Diego growled, to murmurs of assent.

Sam let out a sigh, rubbing her eyes in the age-old sign of weariness. Helen, sat beside her, shifted and spoke,

"Suppose it isn't a house arrest," She offered. "As it stands the tribunal has been on hold for over a week; if we were to restart it, and invite you all to stay here with all the privileges you had before - and the added _privilege_ of an armed honour guard - would that be acceptable?"

Manny levelled a cool stare at her,

"Great! So what you're saying is that we are no longer _prisoners, _but we have to stay here, not go home, be followed around by guards _and _we get to be accused of using child soldiers all over again?"

The overt sarcasm in the mammoth's voice dented the conciliatory smile the judge had fixed to her face. Frowning, she leant back,

"We need the tribunal. Maybe you didn't notice, but our civilisation ceased to exist for a not inconsiderable amount of time. You should be _grateful_ that it is being held by the UNTC and not the UN itself; i'm sure the whole _world _would love to know what happened...and then your secret would be out, and you would no longer be safe, even in your time."

"Are you threatening us?" Manny said fiercely.

No one expected Helen to snap, but she slammed her fist onto the table and jumped to her feet, glaring irately at all of them,

"No, _you_ are the ones threatening us!" She shouted. "You are so consumed with your own liberty that you are willing to ignore threats and possibly even die for it, and take all of us with you! Is it really _that hard _to sacrifice a little of it for safety and security for the sake of the rest of us until this blows over? Are you really that _arrogant_ that you would put the fate of the entire world in dange-"

"That's enough, Helen." Sam said quietly.

The judge spun on her, eyes full of incredulity,

"How can you say that? These bastards are playing God with our past, present and future all because they're too bone headed to-"

Sam's cold, hard eyes drifted up to meet hers.

"I said, that's _enough_," Her voice was so unwaveringly calm it was unnerving. "Sit down."

Slowly obeying, Helen's eyes nonetheless showed no dimming of her rage. It would have been easy to dismiss if he didn't feel she might have had a point.

Not that he would show it, however.

"So, if I may," Frank spoke up, attempting a casual air. "What you are asking us to do is to - how did Franklin put it? - ah, yes, 'to sacrifice a little liberty for the sake of safety and security'," He knew the partial quote would sting Sam; it was his intention. "Is that it?"

She stared at him for a long, uncomfortable moment before she turned back to Manny. Her look was pensive as she clasped her hands together and rested her chin on them.

"Suppose we have a compromise agreement," She said. "You stay here for a few days until we can figure out whether this is a serious threat or - as James here still thinks - whether this is just a rare case of good investigative journalism. During that time the tribunal _will _resume. You are free to go about your business, but you will have armed plain-clothes guards to protect you if you go out into the city."

She allowed the silence to stretch, giving her proposal time to sink in.

"Would that be acceptable?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Three days!" Frank grumbled at Claire as they stormed out of the meeting room. "Three days stuck _here_."

"It won't be that bad," She reasoned, matching his pace. "We're not under house arrest at least."

"_Three days!_" He repeated, waving his right arm in annoyance. "What right does she have to do that to us!"

Claire shot him a look,

"She wants to protect us, and the threat is credible..."

Manny, listening in, snorted,

"A death threat is plausible. A headline and a madman isn't."

The madman was the part of it that confused him the most. Cartwright had been out of the Remnant's control for months, yet he was the one who screamed that they were coming.

It didn't make sense to him. Not a lot of the last few months had, if he were honest.

He sighed inwardly; till then he had refused to go visit the murderer of the other herd, mutilator of Diego and would-be tyrant, yet he had no choice. Without any warning, he turned away from the herd abruptly, making his way down another corridor.

"Where are you going?" Manny called out after him.

He turned back to them without breaking his stride,

"I'm going to see the madman himself."

Without waiting to hear the responses, he ploughed through the corridors, wending this way and that, always following the myriad signs that hung at every junction. A part of him argued that what he was doing was a bad idea, that it would end in bloodshed. Whilst he would cite his feelings about the man as the reason he stayed away, he knew it wasn't _entirely_ true; killing a man in cold blood wasn't his style but - for Cartwright - he sensed he would be willing to make an exception.

Passing two guards struggling with a prisoner, too deep in thought to even offer them a hand, he finally reached the detention area. Drawing nearer, he slowed his pace. Something felt wrong, though at first he couldn't place it.

Then he realised, and nearly froze in his tracks; it was quiet. Cartwright's screaming was renowned for being able to be heard from dozens of corridors down. Once, he was certain he could hear the man's wailing from almost twenty stories above.

"So why can't I hear him?" He asked himself aloud.

His pace quickened into a run, then into a sprint. The closer he got, the more his suspicions were raised purely by the sheer _silence_ of the place. He slowed as hard as he could when he arrived at his cell, but he still slammed into the open door. Crying out in pain, he looked around for the guards for a moment...

_The door is open. _He realised, snapping his head back to look in horror at Cartwright's empty cell.

Only cell wasn't empty, he noticed after a moment to calm himself; Cartwright's guards lay slumped on the floor on their fronts, stripped of their uniforms, their heads twisted so far around that their unseeing eyes were staring at the ceiling.

He had no time to gawp, no time to ponder how _right _Sam had been about the threat, and how _wrong _she had been as to who it was aimed at, or at the horrible deaths he had just witnessed. He quickly scanned the wall for a phone, spotted it, and picked up the receiver. The wait for an answer felt interminable, even though it was just a few seconds,

_"Operator." _Came a calm voice.

"We've been breached!" He shouted. "Detention block; Prisoner Cartwright has been taken. There are two dead security guards-"

He trailed off when he felt a rumble, and the phone cut off. For a brief moment, he was confused at the strange coincidence of an earthquake at such a moment. Then another, more violent rumble came. The lights dimmed instantly, cracks suddenly appeared in the masonry around him, dust falling on his head. It all clicked into place immediately, a cold dread settling in his stomach as he recognised what he was hearing.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"I don't know why Uncle Frank is so against staying here," Peaches said serenely, staring with awed eyes at the huge entrance hall to the UNTC's HQ and the people bustling through it. "It's so..._amazing._"

Standing beside her, Mark couldn't help but smile keenly,

"You haven't seen the least of it," He told her. "Almost forty _million _people live in this city."

_There it was. _The awe in her eyes had shock mingled in it as well when her gaze met his own.

"Really?" She exclaimed. "How can there be so many people in _one _city?"

No one was more fun to see a new sight with than Peaches, he earnestly believed. For the last decade he had seen her grow, and till the day he died he will be grateful that he was there when she began to learn about the world; everything seemed new and exciting when he saw it through her eyes. Theoretically, he knew, she was no relation of his, but in his heart it was never the case; mammoth and sabre though they were, he saw her as his little sister, and she felt the same.

Some people raised eyebrows whenever they found that out, and he knew they were different but, somehow, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

He nuzzled his sister's neck affectionately, giving her a full toothed grin,

"We could go explore it if you want," He said. "Just you and me."

"What's out there?" She asked excitedly. "Can we go now?"

He laughed, giving her a playful punch,

"Easy now! We gotta make sure your parents are ok with it first."

By parents, he obviously meant Manny; both of them knew he still had a massive overprotective streak in him when it came to his only child. Ellie took a more pragmatic approach, having long decided that Peaches would more likely gore a potential attacker than get hurt.

"Why? My brother the elder will be there to protect me," She said, grinning mischievously. "They should be fine with that."

Until then he had completely forgotten what he had become, and it was no less a shock to be reminded of it by his little sister of all people. The fact he had won a seat as an elder had surprised him no end; he had made his campaign promise with a tongue firmly in cheek. If he were honest as he stood there, in the enormous reception of the UNTC, firmly in the twenty first century, the Bredelands - and his newfound responsibilities - felt very far away indeed.

"I guess I'll have to build that wall after all," He said smirking, even as Peaches' eyes silently pleaded for an actual answer. He knew that his concern over Manny's feelings was an overreaction; he was a full grown sabre now, and not someone to be trifled with. Even Peaches had seen enough of fighting to hold her own.

Knowing there was no way he could escape the mammoth's gaze, so he smiled and nodded,

"All right then, let's go."

Trumpeting for joy, Peaches became such a bubble of animated energy that he couldn't help but smile.

"Just remember, Peaches, stay close to..." He trailed off, having caught sight of something in the corner of his eyes. Turning to see it, he frowned in confusion. "...what...the?"

Beyond the guards and the metal detectors and the bustling crowds, a gang of people of all shapes and sizes walked in. None of their faces could be seen behind their black hoodies.

With a note of dread, he realised that they were _all _wearing black. He peered at them, instinctively sensing that they were dangerous.

"Get back," He whispered at Peaches. When he saw that she hadn't moved, he nudged her. "Go, get help."

She shot him a stubborn glance, but he wasn't having any of it.

"Get out of here!" He whispered harshly. "Get. _Help!"_

As soon as she realised he wasn't trying to protect her, but actually sending her to get reinforcements, he saw fear in her eyes. Quickly and - for a mammoth - silently, she made her escape. He looked on, glad she was going to be far away from the scuffle, when a beeping noise drew his attention back to the unfolding scene. One of the people in black had passed through the metal detector, stretching out his arms for the guard. On the conveyor belt beside him sat a large carry-all bag.

His heart leapt to his throat as he saw wires sticking out from the slightly open zipper, illuminated by a flashing red light.

"EVERYBODY GET DOWN!" He roared, diving for the nearest desk.

The explosion was deafening. Sheer force pushed the desk back, wedging him so forcefully between the wall and the wood as to leave him thinking that his ribs must be cracking. Disoriented, pained, his ears ringing and all the wind thrust out of him, Mark was forced hear and see without being able to help as the black-clad people had produced all manner of weaponry. Firing in every conceivable direction as they ran past him, they felled and wounded people whose only offence was to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Mark was not a stranger to war, and he paid the natural feelings of fear and panic no heed as he waited until they had passed him by. With a heave, he shoved the shattered desk away and got to his feet. The hall was a mess; the centre of the hall was just a crater, the surviving floor scattered with dead and wounded and thousands of shards of glass falling from the shattered panes above. He caught sight of a dead security guard and limped over to him, dodging any falling masonry and sharp rubble, and pulled the dead man's pistol and radio from his holster without looking around; thinking about the tragedy unfolding around him - of all the people whose lives had been lost, or changed forever - was something that had to wait till the dust settled.

He had learnt that the hard way, years before.

"Attention, all units!" He barked into the radio. "There has been an explosion in the reception area, multiple casualties. Armed intruders on site, wearing black."

The radio exploded with chatter as he dropped it back to the floor and set off after the intruders. He had no idea what would happen, or what they were doing, or even how one sabre could stand his ground against half a dozen armed enemies. Yet still he ran after them.

He made it all of six yards before gunfire forced him to take cover.

The people who had just ruined the reception came bundling back into it, closely followed by two security guards dragging a screaming and panicked prisoner with them. All thoughts of fighting them were shunted out of his mind by bewilderment at the sight of Cartwright - leaner and scrawnier than he had ever seen him - fighting wildly against his new captors. It was then he understood what had truly happened, and who they truly were. Anger and hate flooded him like a drug, powering his every action to such an extent it felt as if time had slowed. Quickly, efficiently, he leapt out of his cover, took aim at Cartwright's guards, and fired. The two men slumped to the floor, the backs of their skulls crushed and bleeding profusely. Cartwright screamed once more, but didn't stop to gawp.

As Cartwright ran towards him, he saw the panic and fear in his eyes that belonged only to those who knew they were going to be killed.

His heart leapt into his mouth as he realised how _right_ he was; the Remnant _had_ attacked them.

What he hadn't expected was that they were there to kill their former stooge.

Cartwright slammed hard into Mark, sending him crashing to the ground. Moments later, the wall behind them simply ceased to be, replaced by a cloud of ash and debris. The prisoner screamed in fear, his voice somehow managing to be more deafening than the hail of gunfire hitting home around them. As soon as there was a lull of the fire, he leapt into action, shoved Cartwright aside, unloading an entire clip as he leapt to his feet to face...

No one, it turned out. He stared uncomprehendingly, the only noise echoing in the shattered chamber was the fading noise of his gun and his heavy breathing. As soon as he realised, he cursed under his breath, and began to run after them.

"NO!" Cartwright squealed behind him, forcing him into a sudden halt. "NO! Oh god please NO!"

He spun around to see what was happening, just in time to see a butt of a rifle slam into his head.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Frank couldn't have run any faster if lions were chasing him. Dashing through the corridors, he bundled into the herd's living quarters, rapidly explained to Manny, Ellie, Ben, Claire, Buck and Sid what was going on, armed himself - with most of the herd doing the same - and ran out, the herd in tow.

The UNTC was in chaos. Klaxons screamed about them as they sprinted through corridors surging with panicked office workers, steely-gazed soldiers and bemused bureaucrats. In the distance they could hear shouting and gunfire. Absently, Frank switched on his radio, tuning it to the frequency he knew the soldiery used.

The radio chatter made the fearful bustle of people around them seem tame and calm.

"I don't understand," Manny panted. "Sam said the threat was to us-"

"She was wrong," Frank said, brusquely shoving through a set of crowded doors. "They weren't after us at all."

"What do you mean-" Manny began. Almost as soon as the mammoth spoke, the crowds instantly thinned as the corridor widened into a small hall. Sam, Terry, James and several hundred heavily armed soldiers stood there.

"Daddy!" Peaches bustled into view from behind the soldiers, bundling into Manny's embrace. "Daddy, Mar-"

"What the hell is going on?" Sam said in greeting as the herd skidded to a halt, cutting off Peaches entirely.

"It's Cartwright," Frank virtually shouted. "They've taken him!"

Sam blanched, blinked and nodded at Terry,

"Battle stations. Put the HQ in full lockdown, no one in or out. Post guards on every door. Seal them in, general."

Before Terry could answer, the radio once more flared into life with Mark's voice. Frank's eyes shot up to meet Terry's, strangely glad to see that he wasn't the only one full of fear,

"Goddamit!" Terry growled as he broke into a run down corridors that lead to the reception area. "MOVE PEOPLE!"

Klaxons were blaring, emergency doors were sealing shut and all a sense of urgency filled the air as of of the soldiers followed after their General, with Sam - having grabbed a pistol from a soldier's holster - joining them. Frank wanted to join them - for years he wanted to give the Remnant a more than bloody nose - but as soon as he began to move Manny stretched out his trunk to halt him. He shot an angry glare at the mammoth, but the pachyderm did not budge.

"They'll be gone before we get there." Manny stated.

"What do you propose we do?" Frank snapped. "They have Cartwright, we need him back!"

"Yeah, but we aren't gonna do that by running after them!"

He wanted to punch Manny so badly his fingernails dug into his palms.

"What else can we bloody do?" He shouted.

_"Unauthorised temporal event!" _His radio spluttered out a woman's voice. _"Repeat, unauthorised temporal eve-"_

The woman's voice was cut off by a new transmission. He blinked in confused surprise,

_"C-Three, this is Captain Howard," _Frank listened to his own voice in stunned silence. _"Unauthorised event is friendly. In pursuit of hostiles. Captain Howard out."_

Blank stares were exchanged between the herd as all of them registered the oddness at what just happened, none of them being able to provide an answer.

All of them, bar one.

"You were saying?" Manny said.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Distantly, Frank was aware of dozens of eyes falling on them as they burst out of the time machine running as fast as they could through their valley. Villagers recognised them, greeted them, and stared in bemusement as he, Buck and Sid sped past them without even a glance. Leaping over the babbling brook and up the herd's hill, it occurred to him how _odd _it was that they were rushing; the attack was over twenty thousand years in their future at that point. They could linger for _years _and still arrive at the time they were meant to arrive...

For some strange reason, he was still running up the hill. Exhausted and confused, he finally reached the top. The truck sat exactly where he left it what felt like a lifetime ago.

Having reached the truck, he slowed to a halt to look at his companions,

"Why shouldn't we appear _before _we do?" He pondered aloud. "We could stop the attack before it happened."

"And alter 'istory _again?_" Buck retorted. "We 'aven't got the time for you to go and try to explain that to Sam, so 'urry up and get in!"

_"In a hurry I see,"_ Ian the truck said in greeting as they hastily jumped in. _"And what disaster is in the offing now? Dinosaurs? Zombies?"_

"The Remnant have attacked the UNTC," Frank said brusquely. "We need you to 'cast to-"

_"The _Remnant_?"_ Ian replied with a tone that struck him as odd; it sounded almost like fear. _"Will it be dangerous?"_

He shot a perplexed look at Sid and Buck. Whilst the weasel looked confused, Sid harboured a knowing smile,

"Don't worry, Ian! We're here to protect you; we're a herd, remember?"

Both he and Buck shot incredulous stares at Sid, but the truck replied before they could say anything,

_"Good...yes, very good. What are the co-ordinates?"_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Blinking away the retinal echoes as they 'cast to London, Frank realised they were careering into a bar. In record time, he slammed on the brakes, turning hard to the left. Buck fell into him as Sid - seated in the back - hit the door. With inches to spare, they skidded to a halt, with a full view of the devastation that once was the UNTC's reception hall.

And just in time to see the Remnant smash Mark over the head.

_"Unauthorised temporal event!" _The radio blared. _"Repeat, unauthorised temporal eve-"_

As Frank replied in the exact way he had heard himself do before, he shifted the truck into gear and sent it forwards. Sid and Buck - fully aware of what he wanted them to do - jumped out of the truck, found decent hiding places, raised their weapons and opened fire. One of the men in black roared with pain as his leg crumpled beneath him, but no one came to his aid; all of his group had already retreated behind cover, firing back furiously. From his vantage point Frank could see Mark unmoving on the floor.

Fear crept up in him as he realised he didn't know whether the sabre was alive or not.

"Keep them pinned down!" He shouted at them as he jumped out of the truck. "Don't hit Cartwright!"

He felt bullets zip past him at lightning speed as he dodged from one piece of rubble to the next, running as hard as he could in between each little haven of shelter, edging closer to Mark with every run. It felt like an eternity in getting to the sabre, yet he knew it could only have been seconds.

His relief of making it into the reception hall was heightened only by the sight of Mark slowly stirring of his own accord. By the time he reached him, the sabre's eyes were open. The momentary confusion in his eyes disappeared as he focussed.

"Frank?" Mark murmured. "What's going on..." His paws gripped Frank's jacket. "Cartwright! They've taken hi-"

"We know!" Frank shouted back as he looked back at the ongoing gunfight. He cursed as he realised the hooded men were retreating back to cars he didn't notice at first.

"No time! Can you walk?"

"I think so!"

"Then follow me, and don't get shot!"

They ran as fast as they could, narrowly missing exploding masonry as bullets piled in around them, every step a seeming dance with death. Buck and Sid caught his gaze, followed it, cursed under their breaths and began pulling back to their truck. The unmistakable sound of engines turning on echoed off the shattered walls as they jumped in. He slammed the gear into its place, revved the engine and lurched the truck forward, swerving through the streets after the quickly escaping cars.

_"HQ to IAN," _Sam's voice sounded crisp even against the backdrop of screeching tires. _"Do not engage unless absolutely necessary. We can't have civilian casualties on our hands."_

"Understood!" Frank grunted, swerving the truck again, remaining hot on their heels. "We're headed for Borough market, over!" He looked in the mirror, getting sight of many eyes as he could. "Get ready, just in case!"

_"Targets spotted, authorities have been alerted and are on their way, Ian is transmitting live video feed." _Sam's voice was accompanied by the sounds of windows winding down and rifles being readied. His heart lurched into his mouth as soon as he realised that they weren't alone. Eyes scanning left and right, he saw hundreds of people watching in fear and shock, beyond them the busy roads of London, towering over them was London Bridge station, the horrifying reality dawned on him;

_We're chasing them through the city._

Cars shuddered abruptly to a halt as the black vans skidded onto the main road, narrowly missing dozens of pedestrians.

"They're turning left!" Frank shouted, twisting the wheel as hard as he could.

Bullets bounced off of the bonnet as soon as he spoke. He swerved the truck left and right, hoping to confuse their aim. Catching a glance of the vans ahead, he spotted no less than four rifles aimed their way.

A quick glance a wing mirror showed people collapsing to the floor to the sounds of screaming.

The vans swerved right, offering its occupants a real glimpse of the truck.

"Get down!" Sid shouted.

The windscreen shattered, bullet holes peppered the bonnet and the rear view mirror shattered into a thousand pieces in an instant. Head ducked, Frank still peered through the steering wheel, keenly following as closely as he could. Cars swerved out of the way, some of them smashing into shop windows.

"Aim for the wheels," Buck shouted over the noise. "We need to get these buggers off of the road!"

Gunshots rang in his ears as Mark, Buck and Sid opened fire, trying their best to hit the vans ahead as Frank kept swerving the truck. The noise briefly grew as they sped under a railway bridge, opening almost immediately into a crossroads. Cars smashed into each other as the vans cut across. In the corner of his eye, Frank saw a bus swerve to avoid them as they followed.

Even over the din of chaos, he heard the distinctive sound of the bus tumbling onto its side behind them.

"They're on Stamford road," He shouted into the radio. "Waterloo direction."

_"Acknowledged," _Sam's voice replied. _"Rapid response units have been dispatched to all major roads and landmarks for a mile radius. Reports of civilian casualties are already coming -"_

It appeared from nowhere. He was so focussed on the vans, and what Sam was telling him, that the waterloo junction pounced on them unexpectedly. The vans turned right, pelting them with gunfire as they did so.

They were careering directly into the circular tower in the centre of the roundabout.

He couldn't react fast enough, his hands remained still, but the steering wheel suddenly started moving.

_"Emergency autopilot engaged,_" Ian said in a businesslike tone. _"Targets acquired, pursuit in progress."_

The sensation was a strange one for Frank; the truck spun wildly to the right, swerving after the escaping vans even as it accelerated it.

He was doing none of those things; all he was doing was holding on for dear life as the sheer force of gravity tugged them all into the left of the truck. No gunfire was heard; everyone was too busy screaming as the truck's right wheels lifted briefly off of the ground. Seconds felt like years in that moment, until they were all blinded by white light.

The truck landed back on all four wheels with a thud, bouncing for a few seconds more. Blinking away the retinal echo, Frank realised that they were suddenly halfway across Waterloo bridge, once more hot on the tail of the vans. Bullets ricocheted off of the chassis, sending them once more into a swerving line of pursuit. Cars, trucks, busses - everything steered out of the way of their oncoming as passengers ducked for cover. Buck and Frank, leaning out of separate windows, once more aimed for the vans' wheels as Ian took care of its own driving. Windows shattered, holes erupted in the metalwork and at least one of the men in the rear van slumped out onto the floor like a rag doll, but they kept moving.

"We let this go on any longer, we're gonna 'ave carnage!" Buck shouted.

Ahead of them, men started gesturing wildly at one another. Sid sat forward, peering intently, only for his eyes to grow wide.

"Oh shi- IAN STOP THE TRUCK!"

Ian threw the brakes into full lock, but the truck was still moving when the men in black raised their rifles again, aiming seemingly for everything but them. Car after car was riddled with bullets, their suddenly lifeless hulks careering into one another. Frank watched in horror at the deadly dance of gravity playing out before him, as metal and glass and flesh crumpled and crushed in submission to the terrible forces wreaked upon them. With inches to spare, Ian finally came to a halt, but the damage was done. Numbly, they all got out of the truck, unable to do little else than stare at the unholy mass that had formed before them. Beyond the carnage, he saw the vans turn right, but he knew they had lost; the Remnant had killed dozens and gotten away with their prize.

"Frank to HQ," He mumbled into a radio. "Targets have opened fire on civilians. Major casualties on Waterloo Bridge. Targets were seen turning onto the Strand, headed west, towards Trafalgar Square."

_"Damnit...acknowledged, emergency services have been dispatched. The Mall and Westminster are being locked down. Once targets have been acquired or neutralised, co-ordinates will be sent to you. HQ out."_

He felt the weight of the screaming, the pain and the misery surrounding him on his shoulders. Looking around at the normal men and women of every species, shocked and fearful and heroically trying to get their dead and wounded out of mangled cars, he knew that it was _their _chase that caused the Remnant to react so disproportionately.

"We did this." He murmured to himself.

"That depends on your point of view, Captain."

He spun around to meet the familiar voice, only to be completely caught off guard by how _silent _the world became around him. Hudson was standing, leaning his front paws against the railings, giving him a discomfiting smile. Behind him, London's skyline had become suddenly scarred, a thousand plumes crawling up into the sky. He quickly looked around, seeing the mangled mess of vehicles, the signs of destruction, Ian...

But no people. Anywhere.

"This is a dream, and you're not James Hudson." He said at the..._thing..._masquerading as Hudson; it wasn't a question.

"And you are wondering what part of you has been injured that you are suddenly seeing me again?" The wolf grinned. "Fret not; nothing of you has been bashed in this time around."

"And yet I'm still seeing you," Frank retorted. "Given the timings of your last visits, forgive me if I'm skeptical."

'Hudson' laughed,

"I wouldn't have it any other way, captain."

He sighed at the wolf, rubbing his temples wearily. Slowly, tentatively, he walked up alongside him, leaning against the rails as he looked out on the ruined city.

"Why are you here?" He said pointedly. "You never just appear for 'a chat'."

"At least you're perceptive on _some _things," 'Hudson' remarked, his smile fading into a frown. "You must save Cartwright."

Frank snorted,

"I struggle to see why you care so much abou-"

_Frank? _Echoed faintly on the wind.

"_Listen to me!"_ The wolf insisted. "He is a piece in this game, and one with many secrets you must know. Lose him, and you may unwittingly help bring back the _Troubles_, captain."

_Frank? _

Frank cocked his ear to the wind, shooting a dubious glance at the wolf. 'Hudson' smiled,

"Back to reality, Mr. Howard."

Suddenly, he felt a paw grip his arm, spinning him wildly to his right.

"FRANK!" Mark shouted at him. "Get a grip!"

The screaming, noise, sirens and sounds of chaos suddenly returned to his ears, just as he once more found himself in a world full of people. He hadn't moved an inch from where he was standing before the wolf appeared.

"What?" Frank mustered.

His herd looked at him in confusion until he realised they were edging back towards Ian. Sam's voice carried on the wind,

"..._Repeat, HQ to IAN, targets have been cornered into Westminster Square. Confusion on the ground, unsure what building they have entered. Underground passages have been locked off, targets are within one of the buildings on the Square. HQ to IAN, do you read me?"_

_If you lose him, the Troubles can come back, _Hudson's voice echoed in his ears.

"Crap." He muttered. "Lets go."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Judging by the stupefied looks the police officers gave them when they 'cast into Parliament Square - and their subsequent decision to _not _shoot them - Frank concluded that Sam had called ahead...but forgot to mention how they'd be arriving. Several officers broke ranks and ran towards them a good minute after they skidded to a halt and gotten out of the truck. Above them, Big Ben tolled for three o clock as they reached them.

"We're with the UNTC," Sid called out. "Don't shoot us!"

"What the hell is going on here?" One of the officers demanded. "We've had no information about this!"

"This is a terrorist hostage situation," Frank stated. "We are here..."

He trailed off as his eyes fell upon the two vans - now abandoned - lying deeply wedged into the statue of Winston Churchill. His gaze scanned the rest of the Square, suddenly noticing the bullet-riddled police cars, the wounded lying on the floor, and two distinctly dead men in black.

"What building are they in?" He asked the gaggle of officers behind him.

"We have reason to believe they are in both the Abbey _and _the Palace."

"Bugger," Buck muttered. "Which group 'ad a prisoner with 'em?"

"There was a lot of gunfire, sir, and confusion...if I'm being honest, we didn't see a prisoner."

Frank had been fearing that response. Scratching his stubble, his eyes tracked between the Houses of Parliament and Westminster Abbey, willing his eyes to perceive some clue.

Sid, standing beside him, seemed to be doing exactly the same thing, shaking his head slightly with resignation.

"What are they trying to do here?" Frank muttered at the sloth. "Why kidnap Cartwright and bring him here?"

"They're going to kill him." Mark blurted.

The sabre - once so shy whenever so many eyes turned on him - looked anything but as they all turned to look at him.

"What makes you say that?" Buck quizzed.

"I saw them," Mark replied, eyes flickering between the three of them. "In the reception hall. Cartwright was terrified of them, they were getting ready to shoot him if they couldn't control him."

Frank cursed under his breath; it wasn't the hostage situation he thought it was.

_Lose him, and the Troubles will come back. _The wolf's words took on a whole new meaning for him in that moment; after all, what better way to get Cartwright away from them than to kill him?

"Damnit...all right then...that means every minute we don't know where they have him makes that more likely," Frank concluded, suddenly feeling - of all emotions, given the man in question - fear. He turned back to the buildings, scanning them more urgently. "If I were the Remnant fighting the Guardians, where would I be?"

"We know they're political," Sid said, pointing at Parliament. "They tried politics against us, and against the UNTC in the past. If they wanted to make a statement, they'd be in there."

"But we'rereligious figures too," Buck retorted, pointing at the abbey. "If they wanted to 'ave a stab at _us, _and undermine _us, _they'd be in there."

Frank cursed,

"This isn't going to help us-"

Big Ben tolled again, freezing him mid sentence. Checking his watch, the surprised looks on the police officers' faces, and the time on the clock-face, he knew something was wrong.

"Big Ben shouldn't be ringing," He muttered. "It's only five minutes pas..."

The realisation must have hit them all at the same moment; before he knew it, Frank was running alongside Mark, Buck and Sid, all of them racing towards the closest entrance to Parliament.

"Wait, what's going on?" The police officer behind him demanded.

"They're in the clock tower!" Frank shouted back. "Seal off the building! No one gets out!"

He didn't wait for an answer; every moment he wasted was another moment in which answers he suddenly needed could die.

"Wait, why?" The officer shouted. "Hey! Tell me, why! Answer-"

A gunshot rang out, dulled only by the noise of Big Ben. Frank ducked instinctively, moving as fast as he could for safety. Shouts and more gunfire echoed behind him, pulling at his attention.

He saw the blood first. Moments later, he realised that the two police officers he had just spoken to were in the centre of the expanding crimson puddle, at least one set of eyes staring blankly - accusingly - at him. In the distance police roared angry orders out, even as they ducked for cover. A tug at his jacket forced him to look away,

"Only way to 'elp them is to get up there!" Buck shouted over the din. "'urry up!"

Dead men's eyes still looking disinterestedly on as he quickly scanned the scene. He took several deep breaths, nodded and followed through the entrance gate of the Houses of Parliament.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

As the smoke from the fire flitted into a crystal clear sky and the smell of the cooking pig scintillated his nostrils, Roshan felt ill at ease. Sat firmly opposite the fire, with a gaze of disdain and sorrow in equal measure, Runar hadn't stopped staring at him since they had set up camp.

He hadn't spoken either. Roshan wasn't sure whether he'd rather speak or look at him.

If he were honest, he wasn't sure whether he wanted either of them.

_"Why."_

The voice was so unexpected, he didn't immediately recognise his own father's voice. Blinking at him like a bewildered animal, he felt his tongue turn to stone,

_"W-what?"_

Runar bit his lip, eyeing the men to the left and the right of him. In the dark recesses of his mind, Roshan noticed the glint at the end of the men's spears.

_They're metal, _he noted. He didn't care; his father was speaking to him.

_"Tell me why." _Runar said.

_"Why what?" _He mustered, knowing as soon as he said it that he was just asking for trouble.

_"Tell me why you betrayed your kind." _Runar said stonily.

_"I haven't betrayed _my _people,_" He shot back. _"I am saving them."_

The guards snorted in derision, silenced only by an ugly stare from the elder chief.

_"You don't stand with us," _Runar said, turning back to him. "_How do you plan to save us from amongst our enemies?"_

_"You are the ones who have betrayed humanity," _Roshan blinked, surprised that any words to that effect were even leaving his mouth. "_You have forced them to be lead by a shadow, a shadow who has murdered thousands."_

Runar rose out of his seat slowly,

_"Do not speak ill of the ki-" _

_"He is not my king," _Roshan spat back. "_I am not some slave to a throne; I am a free man, the only true kind of man... Like you were _once_, father."_

The guards jumped to their feet, brandishing their spears. To the side of him, Roshan was briefly aware of the herd likewise jumping to attention. He did nothing, eyes still fixed on his father, oddly proud of his own insults. The chief let out a flustered breath, eyes full of frustrated helplessness.

_"Your people are being oppressed through forces unseen."_

Human and herd alike froze and turned as one, bewilderment replacing all anger. Sid stood, his gaze a mix of calm intensity Roshan had rarely seen before.

_"How do you know our language?" _Both Roshan and Runar said in unison.

Sid smiled slightly, giving off a shrug,

_"I'm not the moron everyone thinks I am...some of time," _He replied, tapping his ears. _"I listen, and learn." _He turned to Runar. _"Your king is an old enemy, not just of animal kind, but human peoples as well. He is of shadow and darkness, from the Great Battles of a time before time began."_

Runar's face went pale enough for Roshan and Sid to notice, drawing all conversation to a halt.

"_How do you know those words?" _The chief demanded.

_"The people of Breda have a...room...where their stories are kept," _Sid replied. _"This is one of them. It speaks of forces beyond the horizons and above the heavens, spanning thousands of generations and none at all-" _

_"Who, in a time before times, made war against the spirits and peoples of the world," _Runar murmured in continuing. _"All for the aid of a shadow, a dark thing...we have a word for it, an evil word. _Rem-e-na-nt."

Roshan snapped around to look at everyone else, hoping to gauge if they had heard it too.

"Bloody 'ell," Buck mustered. "'e just said 'Remnant'."

Runar swallowed hard, eyeing everyone present before turning back to Sid,

_"You know this word." _It wasn't a question. _"How do you know this word?"_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Breathless, red cheeked and clutching armfuls of paper, Frank ran. To the left and the right of him he saw elders' idle glances turn into confused curiosity as he barrelled across the great expanse of the Council. Eventually their little cave - and a telltale fire outside of it came into view. Claire glanced up, her expression freezing in a bemused half-smile.

"You aren't going to believe what I've found!" Frank exclaimed, eagerly placing a small mountain of paper at Claire's feet.

"And a hello you to," She murmured absently. "Frank, what is this?"

"Sid's research," He panted, gesturing wildly. "The sloth might be a moron, but he's a _brilliant _moron. He's already written down half of the Chronicles, and his findings are astoun-"

"Hold on," She cut him off mid-sentence with a motion of her hand. "Chronicles?"

He smiled breathlessly,

"Of Breda - sorry - he's called the writing on the wall in the cave the Chronicles of Breda."

"Ok," She said slowly. "And why are you excited by this?"

"He proved your suspicions," He replied enthusiastically. "Before he left!"

A few moments of confused thoughtfulness gave way to startled realisation as she sat up, leant forward and grabbed the nearest notebook, flicking through it.

"Sid proved the Bredelands didn't come about naturally? How?"

Grinning, he gingerly picked up another notebook, opened it two thirds of the way through and handed it to her,

"Read this."

" '_The Calling of the Guardians' _?" She read aloud, sending a brief look of surprise at Frank, who nodded. She took a deep breath,

"_'And it was in that time, when Darkness was afoot, that the leaders of all peoples came together...'"_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Runar looked around the campfire keenly, searching for answers he knew were present, hidden from him only by the confines of his own language. Roshan watched his father and sighed, wishing he could help him.

He knew the proud old man wouldn't accept help if it hit him around the head; not if he could achieve it himself.

_"Tell me, how do you know this word?" _Runar demanded. "_How do you know this story? SPEAK!"_

_"We have a similar story, honoured Chief," _Sid said. _"But tell me, how does your version of the story go, honoured Chief?"_ Sid replied.

All eyes, regardless of whether they understood what was going on or not, fell on the Chief, awaiting the response. Roshan looked at him - _really _looked at him - only to stifle a gasp; the great warrior and chief he remembered had suddenly faded into a grey old man, as if decades of care had slumped onto his shoulders as he stood there. Slowly, Runar dropped beside the fire, eyes listlessly scanning the flames.

_"In a time when an ancient evil threatened the world, the spirits and elders of old came together and went to the Great Guardian Who Unites the Peoples, she who watches over the world. It was she who sent to them Twelve from a time even older than their own, to do battle with the ancient evil and - one day - to defeat it. Three were human. Three were mammoth. Two were tigers-"_

_"A sloth, weasel and two possums also?" _Sid interrupted.

Runar snapped around,

"_How do you know this?"_

The answer, Roshan realised, had been staring him in the face. He had heard the same stories; no one alive had not. But it was then - only then - that it slowly began to click into place for him. Moments later, he too had dropped beside the fire, his legs no longer obeying his commands.

_"The might, the lives... the civilisation you have...all of it..." _He looked up at his friends in awe. _"I should have realised it...should have seen it..."_

Diego shifted uncomfortably,

"Why is Pinky looking at us like that?"

"You-" Roshan said breathlessly. "You are _they_. The Twelve, sent by the-"

"Woah! Sent? Twelve?" The sabre turned to Sid. "What the hell are you guys talking about?"

Roshan opened his mouth to answer, only to be distracted by a hand grasping his arm. His father was right beside him, staring at him with incredulous eyes. Everyone else fell silent once more,

_"Son, how is it you are in the company of the Twelve?"_ He demanded. _"They were stories, yet here they are. What is going on?"_

_"I can tell you, honoured Chief," _Sid stated loudly. _"But you will not like the answer."_

_"Let me be the judge of that, little sloth," _Runar retorted. _"Now TELL ME; what is going on?"_

_"The war against evil never ended," _Sid answered. _"It still goes on. And you, honoured chief, as well as all of your peoples, have been fooled. You are fighting against the spirits of old and against all that is good."_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Jesus," Claire gasped. "Do you realise what this means?"

Frank nodded eagerly,

"Breda has knowledge of our timeline! She might even be from it..."

Claire looked at him for a very long time, her weary eyes draining all of his exuberance from him. He slumped in confusion,

"What?"

"Frank..._the Great Guardian who Unites the Peoples?_" She said. "What do the Peoples make up?" She sighed when all he gave her was silence. "Peoples make up a..."

He slumped even further, rubbing his eyes with disbelief as it slowly sank in.

"No," He stated bluntly. "No, it can't be. No."

"Frank, just because you don't want to see it doesn't mean it isn't there," She retorted. "Breda is the Great Guardian who Unites the _Nations."_

In that moment, he looked around him, thought about all they had fought for...

and felt betrayed.

"Damn," He grumbled. "Damn."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Inch by inch they fought their way through the cavernous halls of Parliament, determined in their task of saving a man all of them wanted dead. One by one, the men in black dropped like black dolls even as stonework shattered all around them. Frank glanced around him, quickly checking that Buck, Sid and Mark.

He need not have worried; all of them were taking cover, suppressing fire and moving forward like a well oiled team.

On and on it went for a seemingly infinite span of time until, suddenly, the gunfire simply stopped. He refused to believe it for a moment, keenly listening over the sound of his own heavy breathing and the sound of masonry crumbling. In the distance, Big Ben clanged once more.

"Frank," Sid called out. "It's Three Forty - Big Ben shouldn't be ringing!"

His gaze met Mark's, whose eyes drifted to the ceiling.

"We need to get up there," He decided. "_Now._"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

As they made their way up the myriads of stairs, Big Ben's toll growing ever louder and exhaustion visibly setting in, Frank saw nothing but Hudson, hearing nothing but his chilling words.

_What if he dies? _

The thought alone spurred him on, forcing him to ignore any aches and pains his body threw at him.

"Can you hear that?" Mark shouted.

The party stilled to a halt, looking incredulously at the sabre. But then, just as they were about to move on, screaming could just be made out underneath the tremendous noise of the bell.

"That's Cartwright!" Buck shouted.

"We're close," Mark stated. "Twenty meters above us, give or take a meter or two."

Frank sprinted up the stairs, dropping anything that slowed him down until only his pistol was left in his hands. Finally the end of the stairs came in sight, revealing a door that was ajar. The noise was utterly deafening. Pistol raised, he slammed through the door, joined quickly by the others.

He cursed loudly, but his words were lost in the cacophony. Beneath the bell, two men clad in black lay in the perfectly stillness only death could grant whilst, above them, Cartwright hung limply from a rope tied to the clapper, his body swinging with every toll. Frank fell to his knees, openly weeping as he gazed at the swinging form of a man he hated, a man he failed to save. He thought of the dozens dead on waterloo bridge, the dead policemen outside...

"All this death, and for what." He muttered. He had failed.

"What's that?" Mark shouted, pointing beyond the bell.

Absently following the saber's paw, he realised the farthest wall had been scrawled on. What he hoped was merely red paint was still wet, dripping from the edges, but the words were clearly able to be seen;

_WHAT BEAST SLOUCHES TO BETHLEHEM TO BE BORN?_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The atmosphere in the infirmary was subdued. As Frank glanced around him, he saw the same look in the eyes of the whole herd. Crammed into the small space, they had also been joined by William, Roshan, Theodora, Terry, James and Sam.

It was to Sam that everyone looked. Everything - from her haggard expression to the stance she took - suggested to him that she had more pressure heaped on her than even she would admit. No one spoke, waiting instead for the Secretary General to break the silence.

"Over seventy people have been confirmed dead," She finally said, her voice barely level. "Hundreds more injured, many critically. The city is in meltdown. A state of emergency has been declared in London, and the media has labelled this as the worst terrorist attack our country has ever endured. The Remnant have already claimed responsibility for the attack, and have promised more to come," She looked up and gave them an utterly emotionless smile.

"The prime minister is demanding I resign over the matter, and the Commission is opening an enquiry into what happened. But the one man who could have answered what was going on, is now dead. My first question - my only question for now - is _why. _The Remnant could have killed Cartwright whenever they wanted, so why now?"

The words hung in the air, mingling in Frank's mind with the sounds of bells and screaming and wolves promising doom.

"Secrets." He mumbled.

"What?" Sam said.

Manny glanced over at him and back to Sam,

"They know this tribunal's going on. Maybe Cartwright knew something they didn't want us to know."

"Then why not kill 'im months ago?" Buck retorted.

"To make a statement," Diego replied. "They wanted us to know we can't hide from them anywhere, not even here."

Something returned to Frank's mind, something he had previously forgotten. He leant forward slightly, eyes cast distantly into his thoughts.

"Statement yes," He mumbled. "Reason, not right."

"Care to make a little more sense?" Sam pressed.

He looked around him, as if startled to find himself in a room full of people,

"They wanted to make a statement, but it wasn't about places to hide. Something about the writing on the wall..."

"_'What beast slouches to bethlehem to be born,' _" Mark said, latching onto the idea. "That's the message they were trying to send us?"

Manny snorted,

"What's the use of sending us a message we don't understand?"

"We might not understand it," Frank conceded as he gestured at Sam. "But then, it could be that this isn't a message for us."

"Do you understand it?" Manny said, staring back at Sam.

His eyes widened as she stayed silent,

"Tell us."

James cleared his throat,

"The line is from an early twentieth century poem, by W.B Yeats, called The Second Coming."

"Uh-huh, and?" Manny pressed.

"Well, the poem is instructive for a number of reasons; it talks about the end of the world and the apocalypse, but the most important part I feel is worth noting is how it was never written."

"Um...what?" Buck said. "'ow's that even possible?"

"It wasn't written in this timeline," Sam answered. "We found a copy of it on the computers we retrieved from Fort Halstead; this is the Remnant telling us two things."

Diego sat up in his bed, looking distinctly perturbed,

"They're from our timeline," He said. "The Remnant are from _our _timeline."

"Yes," Sam said. "But also that they want to bring _this _timeline to an end...and that they've started to put their plans in motion."

"You got all that from a _poem?_" Manny retorted.

"A poem that never existed telling us a nightmare centuries in the making is slouching towards being reality?" Sam glanced at him. "They chose this poem carefully; its a statement of intent. They're going to end this timeline."

"Would this poem have told us _how _they're going to do that?" William asked.

James let out a sigh, shaking his head slowly,

"Not exactly-"

"But?" William cut in. The wolf gave him a wan smile,

"..._but..._ it does suggest a possibility..." He looked up at the elder. "And that is why you are here."

"I don't understand," William said. "What does it have to do with us?"

Terry's voice was more distant, eloquent and eery than Frank had ever heard it, yet it carried so potently it felt like it was seeping into his very being. The grizzled general looked up and spoke,

_" 'Surely some revelation is at hand;_

_Surely the Second Coming is at hand._

_The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out_

_When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi_

_Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert_

_A shape with lion body and the head of a man,_

_A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,_

_Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it_

_Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds._

_The darkness drops again; but now I know_

_That twenty centuries of stony sleep_

_Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,_

_And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,_

_Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?' _" He grunted, shifting out of parade rest as he met everyone's gaze.

"People, whatever plan they have to end this world, they're plannin' to _begin _in yours."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Frank sat on the Chancellor's Chair, eyes fixed stonily at the Council chamber's great entrance, patiently hoping his message got through to the one person he needed to in the great lie that was the Bredelands. The conversations he had had with Claire and the revelations wrapped up in Sid's notes all swirled in his mind, deepening every sense of foreboding and betrayal he felt deep down.

With hindsight, he realised he should have known; it was so obvious.

But he didn't want to see it, didn't want to believe it. Even then, part of him wanted to walk away and not know the answer.

As he was thinking of leaving, a figure appeared at the entrance, his tusks and fur illuminated by the dim stone braziers lining the chamber. He made no pretence to bow, or even sit up, as the mammoth moved towards him,

"Good evening, Regent," He called out. "Nice of you to join me."

"One does not summon a Regent as if he were a mere messenger!" William snapped. "This had better be of the utmost importance, _elder_, or I will see to it you are punished for this insolence!"

"Oh I doubt you will do such a thing," He replied, eyes following William as he crossed the central space. "I am done being lied to and you, _Regent, _know much more than you let on."

The mammoth halted in his tracks for a moment, only to double his pace,

"How dare you imply any treachery on my part!" He bellowed. "I am the Regent of the Bredelands, and you will show me the due respect!"

"And, if my suspicions prove correct, I may have a greater rank than you," Frank snapped, rising from the chair. "You have met Breda."

William was less than twenty paces away when he slowed to a stop. The anger still glistened in his eyes, but his posture was more tentative,

"I have spoken with her, yes," He mussitated. "Regents have the right to speak with her, as do all her child-"

"Drop the act, William," Frank growled. "You and I both know you aren't talking about prayer - you have met her."

Silence lingered for a long while as two wills silently did battle. In the end, William let out a sigh,

"Yes. I have."

"And you have the means to summon her?" Frank continued.

"Yes."

"Summon her now, I want to talk to her; I have many questions about the Bredelands."

"One does not simply summon the Great Guardian of the Bredelands!" William bristled. "It is disrespectful!"

Frank spun around on him,

"Do you know who she is?" He shouted. "Do. You. Know. Who. She. Is?"

William sighed,

"Yes. I do."

"Then you know full well she will not disagree with seeing me," He dropped into the Chancellor's Chair. "Please, _Regent, _show me Breda."

The Regent stared at him, opened his mouth to protest, but simply sighed.

"You are making a mistake," He muttered. "But who am I to refuse a _guardian."_

To Frank's surprise, the Regent reached for one of the arms of the Chancellor's Chair and opened it, revealing distinctly modern technology. Touchscreens and buttons and wires confronted him, confirming all of his worst fears in an instant.

"This was installed at the foundation and establishment of the Third Bredelands, almost 300 years ago," William stated matter-of-factly, as he pressed several buttons. "Given the unstable nature of our history, the Regent and Council of the time convinced Breda that it was good for all Regents for the rest of time have access to speak with her, in the name of preservation of the fragile peace she had so recently helped restore."

A flash of light, instantly so shocking and familiar, blinded Frank. Blinking away the retinal echoes, he suddenly realised that a woman stood below them in the central space. As soon as he caught a glimpse of her in the light, his heart sank. William bowed,

"Honoured Breda, thank you for heeding my request for your presence."

"It is gladly given, William," Breda replied, smiling. "What do you wish to discuss with me?"

"Actually, it was me who wanted a chat," Frank answered, standing up so that he was standing in the light. Breda's face turned into one of horror. "So, is Breda just a pet name, or do you prefer it to your other titles?"

"Um...I...I..."

"Oh come now, don't be shy Breda!" Frank called out sardonically as he walked down the stairs towards her. "Admit it; the title of Secretary General was just too little for you! After all, it can't compare with being proclaimed as a _goddess._ What is it that you told me your God supposedly said once?" He clapped his hands in mock glee. "_That's it!_ Have no other gods before Him, right? And yet here you are, playing goddess."

He was just meters from her horrified expression when he bowed sarcastically,

"Welcome to the lands you have twisted and manipulated for thousands of years, Breda...or would you prefer another title, Sam?"

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

**END OF CHAPTER 10**

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

**There's a lot happening in this chapter, and I apologise if you have found it a little confusing at first, but I hoped you enjoyed it! If I am honest, half of this was written in July, and the other half over the last two weeks. In the middle of that huge yawning gap I have been getting up to some really exciting stuff that I want to share with you and, hopefully, get you following it!**

**So I co-founded an startup entertainment and publishing company called Weaver. Our first product - called Empires Collide - is a strategy boardgame that we are currently looking for ways to fund, and we are gearing up to put it on a crowdfunding site called kickstarter on the 18th of jan. If you're at all interested (apologies, cant put links in this!) go to google, type in 'empires collide board game' and we should be the first entry. Please like us on facebook as well; a link to our page is on the blog :)**

**Thanks for reading everyone!**

**Till chapter 11, adieu**


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